Always
by DONOVAN94
Summary: Elissa is the hero of Ferelden, but it has been many years since she slew the Archdemon, and now she must face the truth and tell the love of her life the consequences; but now she faces a greater threat, not from the Darkspawn but from within her own home and from mysterious forces she cannot begin to comprehend, all of which are competing for her blood… Adult content, DA fic
1. Chapter 1 - The Return

Author's Note: This is a "Dragon Age: Origins" fanfic concerning Alistair and Elissa Cousland after the events of "Awakening" as they struggle through their married life. Contains ADULT CONTENT in places, rated M for MATURE, all rights belong to Bioware etc. etc. please rate and review and send me a message if you like! thank you :)

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Chapter 1

He could hear the people, they were cheering, there were crowds of them flocking in the streets, as if every citizen of Denerim were there to just catch a glimpse of their saviour. They were even pressed against the palace gates, and the Royal Guard stood at the ready encase any riots should break out. Alistair didn't think that there would be, but Eamon had insisted. Alistair saw the banners flying in the sky, the confetti, the rose petals, he could hear the songs that were being sung, and he thought rather amusedly how Sten would have had a fit if he had seen such "_Chaos_".

Alistair waited on the steps leading to the palace, his councillors and other members of court standing behind him or on the edges of the courtyard, he stood alone. He knew he looked completely out of place wearing the golden armour of the King, a beautiful white cloak fanning behind him, the royal seal of Fereldan embroidered with golden thread in the very centre. He wore a crown and Marric's sword at his belt which he clutched at the hilt as if he were about to face a hole horde of Darkspawn; he knew it was all for show, alloying the people to see their mighty King clad in his battle armour, and he felt like a little stage boy because of it. When he wore armour, he wanted to wear it because he was going into battle: it wasn't for show, it wasn't beautiful, it wasn't glorious; it was just about protecting yourself enough so that you could survive, so it could keep you alive long enough to do what was right again and again.

But he had to admit… the tailoring was _to die for!_

Suddenly the crowd in front of the palace were animated as they came alive as if to some hidden signal, and they erupted into applause, their cheers almost deafening, and more petals came into the air. A guard barked an order and the great gates were opened and the crowd parted in order to let a figure into the palace courtyard.

And then Alistair saw her… his heart did a little leap in his chest and he couldn't control the grin that erupted on his face, spreading from ear to ear.

A woman on a great snow white battle horse came trotting through the crowd and into the Courtyard, the ringing of hooves thundered through in the air as the horse stamped its huge feet and tossed its mighty head. An entourage followed in after her, all carrying banners of the royal emblem – the mabari hounds, the emblem of the Couslands – the two fig leaves – and the griffon emblem of the Grey Wardens; all were riding great horses from the royal stables, nowhere near in the same league as the battle-charger, but still proud and beautiful animals. There were a dozen of them and they all stood in formation in a line at the end of the courtyard.

The battle-charger came to a halt in the centre of the courtyard, snorting proudly, flicking its white mane as it tossed its head. And finally Alistair could see the woman atop it.

She was young, perhaps only twenty six years old, her heart shaped face framed by her long pale hair that she let loose to flow behind her like a mane, a small crown nestled behind a small braid. Her grey eyes were simply enchanting as they sparkled, making her pale skin seem like snow, her full pink lips curved into a beautiful smile. She wore light armour that hugged her body like a second skin and allowed her freedom of movement – and Alistair didn't mind the view he was presented because of it. The griffon of the Grey Wardens was stamped onto the silver breast plate, but Alistair saw the Highever shield on her back and the star-forged sword at her belt and royal mabari on her belt. Many things she was, but for Elissa Cousland subtlety wasn't one of them.

_Elissa THEIRIN now, _Alistair corrected himself with a grin as he felt pride swell in his chest.

She had returned to him: his Elissa, his wife, his Queen.

She'd been gone for three months in order to visit Amaranthine once again, to make sure that Vigils Keep, the City of Amaranthine and the Grey Wardens of the order were keeping well; she'd spent the first two months putting through some new recruits and making sure they were well taught in their training and scouring the Deep roads beneath Amaranthine, and then playing the Arlessa of Amaranthine to the petty troubles of the lords and ladies, she'd then spent a month after that in order to be the Commander, but it wasn't long before she decided to return to court, and to him.

_Where she belongs,_ Alistair thought to himself.

Elissa saw him, and instantly her perfect smile beamed into a full grin as she swung her leg to swiftly dismount her horse, ignoring the servants that were rushing to get a step for her. She landed with a soft leap, hardly making a sound as she bent her knees in order to absorb the impact. She looked at Alistair, her eyes shining brightly as her smile became wider and wider.

Alistair was grinning too, probably like a schoolboy idiot, but he didn't care. They started for each other at exactly the same time, always in sync just like they always had been on the battlefield' they strode towards each other, barely restraining themselves from running to each other's side. They met at the foot of the stairs, and before Alistair could think, he was reaching for her, one hand clamping on the back of her neck and the other around her waist as he pulled her to him, her arms automatically going around his shoulders as she pressed herself against him. He felt her breath wash over him, felt the brush of her lips and suddenly he was kissing her, deep and hungry forgetting about the crowd, the courtiers, it was as if nothing else existed but just him and her. Her lips parted to take a breath and he stole it instantly, sweeping his tongue along her teeth, flicking her tongue, kissing her as if he never wanted to stop – he DIDN'T want to stop.

He heard the roar of the crowd as they cheered with approval, and he was brought back to the present. He pulled away just slightly so that he could see her eyes, their noses almost touching.

"You came back to me," he whispered to her.

"Did you ever doubt I would?" she whispered; her voice warm and soothing an ache inside of him he hadn't even known was there. Alistair smiled again; they'd fought together, they'd slayed the Archdemon together, they'd ruled together, they'd been married for six years but still Alistair thought she was the most amazing creature had ever seen just as he had the very first time he'd seen her back at Ostagar: strong, resourceful, beautiful, her eyes challenging and enchanting him all at the same time.

The crowd was still roaring for their hero, and the pair turned to them, noticing how the Royal Guard were trying to keep the crowd under control beyond the gates. They smiled and raised their linked hands, fingers intertwined as if they had just won a mighty victory. The crowd roared again, throwing confetti in the air for them and screaming their adoration for their King and Queen.

Alistair looked at Elissa, speechless as he was suddenly overcome by his emotions. He squeezed her hand in his, and felt her return it with a smile, her own eyes shining for a moment.

"Come," he murmured softly.

Still holding her hand – and having NO intention of letting go – Alistair led her back through the great doors of the palace, passing a few nobles along the way who all happily followed them back into the entrance hall and then into the enormous Throne room.

"You're Highnesses!"

Alistair turned with Elissa to see Arl Eamon striding towards them, a grin hidden behind his grey fuzzy beard. When he reached the couple, he bowed low – showing surprising flexibility for an elder man Alistair thought – and knelt before Elissa when she extended her hand, pressing his forehead to her fingers.

"It is a fine day to have you back with us my Queen," Eamon said, perhaps a little too loudly, so that all of the room could hear him.

"I am glad to be back," Elissa said, her voice commanding the attention of all those within the hall. "It warms my heart to be back at court with true Fereldens!"

The nobles applauded their approval.

"True Fereldens?" Alistair asked in a whisper as he leaned closer to her.

"Maker knows I have to say _something_ to keep them happy," she murmured back to him, Alistair chuckled, trying not to smirk.

"And the court welcomes its true Queen back to her home," Eamon boomed with a smile, gaining another applause from the crowd.

Alistair felt the muscles of his jaw tighten; what had Eamon meant with that comment?

After that various nobles and courtiers came up the dais to the thrones in order to give their congratulations and their welcome to the King and Queen, each pompous aristocrat trying to outdo the other. It went on for over an hour; on a normal day Alistair would already be suffering from a headache, but he felt Elissa's hand still clutched in his and it seemed as if nothing could take away that floating feeling that he felt inside of him.

"Maker's breath," Elissa whispered to him. "How I have missed this at court, such back stabbing idiocy warms my heart,"

"For the past three months they've had only me to focus on," he smiled as he whispered back to her. "They know I ignore them and grow irritable with them, so now that you're here you can give them all the love and attention they've been waiting for,"

"Oh joy," she muttered sarcastically.

Alistair allowed it to go on for perhaps another twenty minutes, savouring the agonised smile on Elissa's face. But he wasn't a _complete_ bastard, and so he stood quite unexpectedly, raising his hand as he commanded for silence. It still unnerved him when all those faces peered at him expectedly, as if he could grant their deepest wishes or murder them all with a single word.

"My Lords and Ladies, Teyrns and Teyrnas, Arls and Arlessas and Banns of the court," he said loudly for them all to hear. "The Queen and I thank you for your support today, but my wife is exhausted from her journey, so you are excused from the court."

He reached his hand behind him, and saw the appreciation in Elissa's eyes as she gladly took it, joining him as they made their grand sweeping exit.

Alistair quickly dismissed all the servants that tried to trail them along the corridors and passages leading to the Royal Chambers, and asked for all servants in the royal apartments to vacate the premises immediately. As soon as they were alone at the foot of the stairs leading to their rooms, Alistair quickly swooped down to lift Elissa into his arms, her weight and light armour was almost nothing to him. She giggled and put her arms around his neck and kissed him… that was all the incentive Alistair needed, and quickly charged up the stairs with Elissa in his arms, taking the steps two at a time before he came to the huge doors at the top and all but kicked them open.

He swept through the various apartments, ignoring the food and other various assortments and gifts that had been delivered to the chambers. Instead he walked straight to their bedroom and set Elissa on the bed before turning to close and lock the door behind them. When he turned back to face her, Elissa was standing by their huge bed that looked like it could sleep six people comfortably, she was smiling at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"You couldn't have carried me away any sooner?" she asked, crossing her arms and trying to sound annoyed. Alistair shrugged and grinned.

"I just needed you to suffer a little while,"

"Suffer?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, so that when I came in for my **_grand rescue_** you would be **_oh so thankful_**…" he came to her and pulled her against him so that she was surrounded by him… and so that she could feel his erection against her navel as it tried to break free of his leather breeches. "Besides, you left me all alone for three months… a little **_punishment_**was in order."

"Oh…" Elissa grinned as she leaned in closer, her voice turning into a hoarse whisper as she rolled her hips against him, making him groan. "So I should get down on my knees and thank my oh so caring King for putting me through hell before rescuing me at his leisure?"

"I would prefer you on your back: better view that way…"

"You're such a bastard," she grinned.

"I know, a sorry condition I was born with I'm afraid, but you married me…"

"Yes I did," she purred.

"Strange thing that: I didn't do any getting down on one knee or any proposal stuff, you did it for me. Some men would think "phew, thank the maker for that!" whilst the others would think "Holy SHIT I'm marrying her!" I had to deal with that and being made King at the same time,"

"So which group are you?"

"Well, I guess the first thing that went through my mind was: HOLY SHIT! I'm marrying the woman I love and there's no one to stop us, I don't have to make a fool of myself when I think she'll say no, but then –"

"Shut up and kiss me," she breathed.

And he did, all other thoughts were erased completely from his mind as her lips locked with his, and she kissed him with such hunger and longing, he felt pride swell within him that he should be the one to make her feel this way. He returned the kiss in kind, finally allowing all the frustration, the hunger, the loneliness to surface and beg to be answered by her tender lips, like a beast that howled for joy at the return of its mistress.

"I've missed you… so much…" he mumbled between breaths, not daring to break the kiss.

"And I you… you have _no idea_," she breathed.

He slowly allowed his hands to trace down her back, following the curve of her spine, allowing himself to slide over the buckles that held her armour on. With deft fingers he quickly unbuckled the back, never breaking the kiss. He slid one hand up her body to the back of her neck pulling her deeper into him, his fingers entwining with her pale hair, loving the way it flowed over him and tickled his skin. He broke away from her mouth, giving her a chance to breathe, but kissed her chin, along her jaw, he followed the slender curve of her neck, pausing over her vein to nibble at her flesh and suck it in between his teeth, enjoying the way he heard her gasp, making his erection give another painful jolt in his breeches. He wanted to be inside of her **_now_**, but he wouldn't; he was going to savour this, no matter the pain, this was worth it: to taste her, to feel her tremble against him, to be able to take all the time in the world to please his woman.

He reached the neckline of her armour, and with one hand quickly unbuckled the shoulder guard and allowed it to clatter to the floor, along with the gauntlets and the breastplate. Her undershirt was there, but all he had to do was gently brush it aside and kiss her bare shoulder, her collar bone, the base of her throat, and felt the vibration beneath his lips as she groaned, her hands travelling along his body.

With a grin, Alistair returned to his full height, delighted to see her eyes dark and smoky from her arousal.

Suddenly he heard a clatter and a bang as his own shoulder guards, gauntlets and breast plate fell to the floor, leaving him in his breeches, boots and under garments. He raised an eyebrow and Elissa smiled slowly, mischief twinkling in her eyes.

"My turn," she whispered.

With soft fingers she gently pulled on the front of his undershirt, and Alistair obediently complied, raising his arms so that the shirt could slide off of him, revealing his bare muscular chest beneath. Elissa kissed his mouth and began to work her way down his throat and over his pecks, pausing to take his nipple in her teeth and pinch and suckle. Alistair hissed and shifted his hips so that his cock wasn't so unbearably painful in his breeches. Elissa looked at him and began to run her fingers over his body: over his pecks, down the side of his ribs, her light touch enough to tickle but not unbearable, her fingers traced over his six-pack and down past his navel to the soft skin of his lower belly. She tugged his breeches and jerked him closer so that he was pressed up against her body, and her hand brushed his erection.

Alistair felt another jolt from his shaft and sucked in a breath.

"I see everybody's missed me," she purred in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. He wrapped his arms around her as he pulled her close for another kiss. He felt her hand reach down to go inside his breeches –

"None of that," he growled with a grin, snatching up her wrist so that it was between their pressed chests. "My self-control is barely holding together as it is, you playing nasty is just a little unfair,"

"Perhaps then we both need to get reacquainted with the game," she grinned.

"And I think we need a **_lot_** of practise…" he murmured into her mouth as he kissed her again.

The kiss quickly grew hungrier, _deeper_, and more urgent as they were soon struggling for breath. Alistair pulled up her undershirt and threw it across the room, and quickly set to work as he kissed his way down her chest and nuzzled her bosom, his fingers finding one pink nipple and pinching it as he massaged her breast, loving the way it was a perfect fit for his hand. He didn't neglect the other as he ducked to take it into his mouth, suckling her as she had done to him; he felt her arch beneath him and press his head with a hand to the back of his neck. He growled, needing no more encouragement as he continued to work her, flicking the hard tip of her nipple with his tongue, and enjoying the way she gasped.

He continued his journey down, pulling off her boots until she was barefoot with only her own breeches separating him from her. With slow, teasing fingers he undid the knot that held her breeches together and slipped them down to her ankles where she kicked them off impatiently, revealing her core to him, and his mouth watered as if he were dying of thirst as he looked at her.

"My honey…" he whispered and kissed her bud.

Elissa almost cried out and he felt the pleasure rock through her as she tilted her hips to give him better access to her. He kissed her lower lips, savouring the sweet flavour of her as he sucked it in to him like nectar, blowing softly onto her sore entrance that was slick and moist with her heat, and then sweeping his tongue along her opening. He felt her fingers in his hair, her legs trembling as they parted for him; barely able to keep her standing and he heard her beg for the release he promised.

**_No, none of that my sweet,_** he thought wickedly to himself as he stood to his full height, proud to see her gasping for breath, her hands clenching onto his skin, her eyes wide with outraged disbelief.

"Please," she whispered hoarsely. "Please Alistair…"

He was too selfless for his own good.

Holding her waist, Alistair lifted her into the air, her legs wrapping around his waist as she settled above his hips, her arms linking around his neck as she pressed her lips against his, demanding of him as she forced her tongue into his mouth, her hard nipples pressed against his chest. He carried her to the bed, kicking off his boots as he went, and gently laid her out on the bed and crawled on after her.

Elissa sat up and reached for him, the need in her eyes burning into him, making him respond like a wild animal, quickening his stride as he rushed to release her of the pain. He kissed her mouth, her chin, nibbled and scrapped his teeth along the line of her jaw, combing his fingers through her soft hair as he did so. She fiddled and rushed to undo his breeches, and suddenly his cock was sprung from its sheath and bulged as it strained to great her. A second later he felt her cool soft hands wrap around him –

Alistair growled, stars blinking in front of his eyes, and he quickly leapt back to kick his breeches off, not caring where they landed. He was back at her side a moment later, and she lay down on her back as he crawled up the bed and settled between her legs, held poised above her, marvelling at this beautiful woman beneath him: her smooth skin, her pale hair draped over the pillows, her breasts tweaked with hard pink nipples, she was the definition of beauty. And she was all his.

He kissed her, _really_ kissed her, cupping her face in the palm of his hand, savouring this one moment as if it were all a wonderful dream that would shatter the moment he lost concentration. He held himself an inch above her face staring into her eyes; he murmured her name, allowing it to linger on his lips, and then, they joined.

They both cried out as he slid deep inside of her, Elissa arched her back, pressing her breasts against him, panting as she lay helpless beneath him. Alistair could barely form coherent thoughts as his mind suddenly became a white haze, he almost released himself right then, the sheer relief to be back in that familiar place, her body tight against the intrusion, but slowly loosening around him, making a perfect fit for him as if she had been made to house him and he had been made specifically to fill her.

He kissed the base of her throat and buried his face in her hair as he nuzzled the flesh where her neck joined her shoulder and he gently began to rock his hips back and forth. Elissa cried out again, and hooked her legs up to curl around his waist, pushing him in further; Alistair allowed his hand to gently glide down the curve of her body feeling the softness of her flesh, cupping her bottom and sliding along her thigh. He began to pick up a rhythm, slowly gaining speed and intensity as the waves of pleasure rocked the pair of them back and forth with growing ferocity.

Elissa moaned and clawed at his neck and shoulders, and tilted her hips, allowing him to slide even **_deeper_** into her, all the way to the hilt. Alistair groaned in her ear and began to pump harder and faster into her, retracting until only the tip of him was inside of her and then driving home and making her whimper as the shuddering that rocked her body became more frequent, and he could feel her climax coming closer and closer. His was not far off either, and although he wanted to prolong this moment, it was such magic that he couldn't seem to stop himself as he pumped into her and she met each thrust with her own adding to the waves until they became a tsunami that threatened to destroy them both.

With a scream Elissa came, and Alistair felt her insides suddenly turn to honey as she melted around him, surrounding his shaft with warmth that burned him. He kept thrusting as her climax shook through her, the waves sending her over the edge, his thrusts making it that much sweeter as he pushed against the tender flesh.

It was enough to send him over as well, he felt his balls tighten and he roared as he felt electricity fly along his length as he poured his seed into her, his cock vibrating as burst after burst he released himself into her.

He was left dazed above her, his hands tightened into fists on the sheets, their legs tangled in the blankets, their breathing laboured as the last of their climaxes washed through them, leaving the pair of them trembling and dizzy. Elissa's eyes were half closed as her smoky eyes slowly became unfocused as she drifted into unconsciousness. Alistair stayed poised above her for a moment, feeling his own drowsiness quickly come to claim him, but he grasped onto reality with iron claws as he lowered himself to whisper in her ear.

"Welcome home," he gently pulled away a strand of hair from her face and her eyelids fluttered a moment before closing. "I love you… **_Always_**,"

* * *

"Eamon what are you _suggesting?!_" Bann Sighard growled furiously, his eyes lighting dangerously in his head.

"I am not suggesting anything my lords and ladies of the council, I am merely stating a fact," Eamon sighed in exasperation.

"A rather treasonous fact Eamon," Bann Alfstanna cursed, clenching her fists on the table, probably wanting to reach for her sword.

"Brother this goes too far, even for you," Bann Teagan muttered, his voice dripping with disapproval.

"Was it not you Arl Eamon who made them both King and Queen in the first place?" Alfstanna said.

"It doesn't matter what has happened in the past," Eamon growled in frustration. "What matters is that we must prepare for our future,"

"I agree," Bann Ceorlic said tersely. "No matter how popular they are, if the King dies then we will have another civil war on our hands,"

"But that does not excuse treason!" Alfstanna snarled.

"Enough!" Eamon shouted, calling the small table to silence. Eamon looked at the small council of the Bannorn, the Banns who had been elected to represent their neighbours on this small council, where they chose what matters to bring to the King. "No matter how we look at the situation the facts are still the same: both the King and the Queen are tainted, reducing their chances of conceiving a heir, and those chances get slimmer with every passing cycle that the Queen experiences. They have been married for six years; they have roughly thirty years to live, that is plenty of time for them to raise a healthy heir… _if _they can,"

"There is still plenty of time," Sighard muttered.

"No there is not," Eamon cursed under his breath, trying to vent out all of his frustration as he sighed with clenched fists. "Those few who still support Anora's claim to the throne will use this as something to drive a wedge between the King and the rest of the Bannorn. Alistair needs an heir,"

"So have him sire a bastard," Ceorlic sneered. "That shouldn't be too difficult for him,"

"That would only cause more problems than it would solve," Teagan sighed. "And Alistair wouldn't do it,"

"But you think he would betray his wife?" Alfranna demanded.

"I never said that," Teagan looked at his hands in despair so that he wouldn't have to see his brother's face.

"We have to face the facts," Eamon said gravely. "Queen Elissa may not be able to produce an heir; we must consider an alternative so that the Theirin line is secured."

"Maker's breath, they've only been married five or six years," Alfanna was staring at Eamon in wide eyed disbelief.

"King Caelian and Anora were married less than that before Eamon suggested choosing another bride," Teagan didn't stop the resentment from creeping into his voice as he stared at his brother across the table.

"Oh, so this is a **_recurring _**issue," Sighard muttered.

"If the King were to remarry and have an heir there would no longer be an issue!" Eamon spat angrily.

"Why not have him marry Anora?" Ceorlic suggested. "That would settle a lot of disputes for those still loyal to her,"

"It would," Eamon agreed. "But Anora's in her late thirties now, her change will almost be upon her, she is unlikely to give Alistair any children,"

"Marrying a Lady of the Bannorn would disgrace the Queen – more so than a match with Anora," Sighard set his jaw as he gave Eamon his hard stare. "The gossip would spread like wildfire: 'The Hero of Ferelden swapped for highlander,' Ferelden would become the laughing stock of Thedas!"

"What about Celine?" Eamon said quietly.

The room fell eerily silent like a tomb.

"The Empress of Orlais?!" Alfranna whispered, as if she could barely choke the words out.

"Why not?" Eamon shrugged. "She was willing to discuss marrying Caelian for the sake of peace, why not Alistair? It would unite our lands, making us a powerful force to be reckoned with, and Celine is still very young – more than capable of giving him an heir."

"You're playing a dangerous game Eamon," Sighard murmured.

"Even I realise that the people still bear old grudges against Orlais," Ceorlic for once didn't seem smug, he looked uneasy.

"So what is to be our decision then?" Eamon asked.

"I refuse it," Alfranna said straight away, rising to her feet and placing her hands on the table, glaring at Eamon. "Not only is the Queen the Hero of Ferelden, any fool can see that Alistair is in love with her – he would NEVER agree to this!"

"I'm sure I can convince him of his duty," Eamon murmured.

"Truly brother?" Teagan spat. "You think you can convince him to abandon the woman he loves for the sake of your peace of mind?"

"And what's more," Alfranna continued. "I owe Queen Elissa for helping my brother; I do not forget my allies Eamon, Waking Sea and my neighbours shall not support this,"

"I agree," Sighard stood to stand by Alfranna. "I believe she still has time to produce an heir. And even if she didn't, she is too well loved, the people would be in uproar and so would Alistair."

"I for one agree with Arl Eamon," Ceorlic said, leaning back in his seat leisurely. "If an heir is not produced then we risk another civil war. Fereldan cannot take that."

"We are at a tie then," Alfranna murmured.

Eamon looked at his brother, his eyes pleading.

"It is up to you now Teagan, who will you side with?" Eamon asked.

Teagan stood to his feet, and did nothing to disguise the disgust as he regarded his brother.

"You're on your own brother," he muttered. "You want this, you deal with it; speak to the King if you so wish and bring whatever consequences may come upon your head and your head alone. You will receive **_no help_** from the Bannorn,"

And with that the council left the chamber.

* * *

Elissa awoke from a wonderful dream, the light streaming in from the stained glass windows filtering in onto her face. She had dreamed she was back home in Denerim with Alistair, that he had loved her until she'd screamed and begged and tears had rolled down her eyes, she'd missed him so much…

But today was a new day, and she stretched her body to release the tension in her –

She heard a groan and her eyes snapped open as she looked down to see a body draped over her, his arms on either side of her, hands entwined in her hair, his face buried in her bosom. Alistair lifted his head, his eyes bleary from sleep, his dark golden hair messy from sleep; he raised himself up onto his elbows, and caught her eye, and a broad grin slowly spread across his face.

So not a dream after all…

"Good morning," he murmured as he leaned in closer to her.

"Good morning," Elissa whispered, unable to contain the feeling inside of her as she looked at him, a warm glow spreading all the way to her toes. He kissed her, and she kissed him back, her heart soaring as she felt his lips against hers, and felt something stir below –

She was jolted in surprise as she realised he was still inside of her and had felt him harden suddenly. Her smile turned into a grin.

"**_Good _**_**morning**_…" she purred, rolling her hips as a liquid heat licked through her body. Alistair grinned too, shrugging almost sheepishly.

"What can I say, you bring out this rather embarrassing side of me," he said.

"Do you hear me complaining?" she rolled her hips again, sending a shiver of pleasure through them both.

"No, but I do remember hearing you beg," his grin turned wickedly mischievous as he poised himself above her.

_Oh, is that going to be the game?_ Elissa thought with a chuckle.

"Well I think I heard you screaming,"

"Probably," he shrugged.

"Like a little girl," she teased.

"And proud of it," he said in a high squeaky voice. She laughed, such an easy laugh that it made her feel like she was glowing. He always made her laugh, no matter what the circumstance, no matter where they were, he could always make her laugh like a school girl. She kissed him again and moaned when he began to rock himself back and forth gently to a tune only they knew. She was quickly lost in the stars that danced in front of her eyes.

When she came back to reality, Alistair was lying beside her and she was cuddled up against him, he had one arm draped over her shoulders as he held her close to him, his other hand kept combing his fingers through the ends of her hair as lay across her back. Her head lay against his chest and her hand kept tracing small patterns across his skin. They lay there for a while, silent, just content in the other's embrace. And then for no reason, Elissa found herself telling Alistair all about her time in Amaranthine; they'd written to each other whilst she'd been away, and some parts he knew, but he just patiently listened as she told him everything: the darkspawn, the uprising against her, the battle for Vigils Keep and the City of Amaranthine, and about the Mother and the Architect, when she was finished, Alistair lay there quietly, thinking, and it wasn't long before he spoke.

"So the lords and ladies are still putting up some resistance to your rule?" he asked.

"It doesn't help that the last time I was there was two years ago, and then two years before that when I first arrived; the fact that I'm there so irregularly makes them bold, and that boldness makes them careless. I just wish that they wouldn't involve the common people, they deserve no part in their political games." She said.

"I know," he whispered soothingly. "And Sigrun still withdrawn?" he asked softly.

"Ever since I spared the Architect she'd been getting worse and worse; my second Ser Elor, he says she won't even talk to anyone anymore, she keeps spending more time in the Deep Roads..."

"You did what you had to, I doubt she could have done better," he muttered. "Still no sign of this 'Anders'?"

"No," she sighed. "It's been years since he left us, and this time... I don't think he's coming back,"

"Well then," Alistair sighed. "We can deal with the that another day,"

Elissa smiled, as she snuggled closer to him, her hand gently stroking his arm as it curled around her, pulling her into his embrace.

"But you know what?" he asked and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"What?"

"I've discovered something…"

She looked at him.

"What is that?" she asked. His smiled turned into a full toothy grin.

"You just as shit at ruling as I am,"

Elissa punched him in the ribs, making him wheeze and laugh at the same time. She grabbed a pillow and made a swipe for his head, but he ducked out of the way and tackled her back down to the mattress, his lips crushing hers as he kissed her deep and hard. She kissed him back for a moment, and as soon as she felt his muscles slacken just a fraction, she twisted her hips and pushed him off, allowing herself to role on top of him.

* * *

Anora watched the city from her window, seeing Denerim bustle with life as its people went about their daily business, as if they had not a care in the world.

As if they had forgotten her.

She felt her anger rise like a cobra with its hood raised and hissing. She had been their Queen a few years ago, loved and adored by them, and they had hastily tossed her aside as if she were horse shit in the road. She had seen them yesterday, cheering and adoring that harlot as she paraded through the street towards the palace.

Anora seethed, her hatred burning like an inferno inside of her. Her misery, her humiliation, the bane of her existence was that one woman! Whilst Anora was imprisoned in the highest tower of Fort Drakan, Alistair's whore was prancing around wearing _her_ crown and pretending to be a Queen! She'd swooped in, stamping on her life and ruining everything, threatening to take the Kingdom into oblivion, murdering her father, bringing that pretender to the throne so that those she had once called friends turned against her, and to top it all off the blighted woman had sealed the deal and made herself Queen.

Anora was then imprisoned in Fort Drakan, all because she would never bow to that whore so long as she lived. She may have been the hero of Ferelden, but she was in the end an utterly selfish creature: she had smitten the Alistair boy by spreading her legs for him and he blindly followed her anywhere, and he made her his Queen so long as she kept them spread.

And Anora did not delude herself as others did that she was "a guest of the King's mercy," she was a prisoner and she knew it. Her cell might have been large and comfortable and her jailors were polite and cared for her, but it was a prison none the less.

But that was going to change.

She heard the door click silently as someone walked into the room.

"You're here, good," she said, not turning around, the less she saw of him the better.

"You summoned me my Lady," said a deep voice.

"Your Majesty," Anora corrected curtly. "You will address me as 'Your Majesty',"

"Forgive me… your majesty," the voice said.

"Good," she smiled. "Do you know what you must do?"

"Yes your majesty,"

"And you know the consequences if you should fail?" her tone dropped dangerously.

"Y-yes… your majesty," the voice hesitated and swallowed loudly. "But do I have your word that they will be unharmed?"

"So long as your work is done perfectly, you can go to the docks and find the ship marked 'The Nightingale' to retrieve your reward," Anora said, staring out the window to the palace she had once called home.

"Thank you, it shall be done as you say, your majesty," the voice said softly. Another click of the door sounded and the person was gone.

Anora smiled as she looked at the palace, her heart counting down the days until she could walk down those halls again.

_Hide while you can little piggy,_ Anora thought as she stared at the windows on the northeast wing, where the Royal apartments would be. _The big bad wolf is coming to knock on your door…_


	2. Chapter 2 - Manipulation

A/N: hi ya! sorry this chapter took a little while, life's been a little hectic. anyway this chapter shows that not every relationship is perfect, there is always a little drama, and I like an angry Alistair (Teehee! ;D) I hope you enjoy, comment, review, PM and all that jazz! thank you!

* * *

Chapter 2

Alistair walked along the corridor, trying not to express his foul mood with a grim set of his jaw or a curl of his lip. His boots thundered down the corridor, and servants had the good sense to clear out of his way. His royal robes were a dark red with embroidered gold today, he had a long dark cloak with wolf fur trimmed around the edges that fanned out behind him.

He came to Eamon's chambers, and gave but one look to the two guards poised outside the door as they stood to attention.

"Is the old bag in there?" he asked.

"My Lady Isolde is in the gardens today your Majesty," the guard on the left said, his eyes wide as he looked to his companion uncertainly.

"No not the Arlessa, Maker I would call her 'a witch' rather than 'old bag', no I'm talking about Arl Eamon," Alistair muttered.

"Yes my lord is in his study, my King," said the guard on the right.

"Right fine," Alistair sighed in defeat. "He's probably heard me by now so I can't sneak off… let me through."

The guards immediately stood aside and bowed low as Alistair swept past them, trying his best not to sigh at their theatrics. He open the door and slammed it shut behind him.

"Careful," Eamon called from his study. "Another blow like that and you might break the door,"

"And your legs," Alistair grumbled under his breath.

His foul mood only worsened when he heard the words he had just uttered, and the mood plummeted further when he acknowledged that he was **_in_** a mood. He hadn't been: this morning he'd woken up as happy as any man could be when he saw Elissa sleeping peacefully as she cuddled up against his chest, he'd watched her for some time until she finally woke up and kissed him. Such kissing had led to such delightfully awful acts of foreplay, the likes of which priests of the Chantry would have warned against with the evil eye, swearing the maker would strike him down if he had still been part of the Templars. He thought about Elissa's sweet little mouth as she smiled, having tied him to the bedposts and feeding him food as she teasingly played with herself for him, daring him not to bite the strawberry or he would forfeit his **_reward_**. Just thinking about it made Alistair shiver with desire and his cock twitched as if to hint at the way it had strained and bulged for Elissa, begging her to relieve them both. But of course, there had been a knock at the door, and Elissa had quickly put on a nightgown and robe and went to answer. It was a message from Eamon, summoning Alistair to his study for an "urgent talk". Alistair had point blank refused, wanting instead to carry on his delightful game, he didn't often use his Kingly status but at that point he would have raged to all of Denerim that no one could tell the King what to do! He'd wanted to make Eamon wait, but Elissa had insisted he go, getting dressed before him whilst he was still tied up so he couldn't do anything about it. She said she needed to see to the people today in order to give them faith in their Queen and to then visit the barracks and the guard, but had promised him to be back in time for the Petitions. She'd undone him and left with her dog Bane before Alistair could catch her.

So he was pissed off at Eamon for ruining his fun, and sexually frustrated to the point where he was thinking of screwing Elissa into oblivion if she even looked at him funny. He tried to calm himself by thinking "this had better be good! Eamon never summons without a good cause." But then he was lying to himself. Eamon had once summoned him in order to discuss banning the selling and housing of an Antivan Cheese.

And Alistair was particularly fond of Antivan Cheeses so the answer had been a "no".

Alistair sighed and went into Eamon's study, trying his best to stuff the anger deep inside himself and lock the box. It wasn't easy.

Eamon was sitting at his desk, rifling through papers and official looking documents that were strewn before him. He gazed at a paper in particular through his spectacles murmuring under his breath as he made a few scribbles on a blank piece of parchment. Court life had done nothing for Eamon, Alistair thought as he stared at the man who'd raised him as a child. The man's eyes were tired and sunken from lack of sleep, more wrinkles had appeared around his mouth and his dark grey hair was slowly turning white. He'd lost about thirty pounds in the last six years, being advisor to the King and the Arl of Redcliff was taking its toll on him; Alistair had suggested giving one of the positions up to Bann Teagan – Alistair and the Bann had grown closer since the Blight, for Teagan understood all of politics, was only about ten years older than Alistair, and understood why Alistair sometimes did what he did at court. Eamon wanted Alistair to be more like Caelian had been: born and bred to run a kingdom from where he sat on a throne; Teagan understood that sometimes sitting there and directing wasn't enough, it wasn't about politics or power or self-image, it was about what was right for the people and sometimes going out there to get yourself dirty.

Of course Eamon had refused such an idea. Whether for genuine reasons or out of stubborn pride, Alistair didn't know.

Eamon looked up from his paperwork to smile at Alistair and bowed his head. Alistair didn't comment on the breech in etiquette that demanded someone stand to bow before the King or Queen. Eamon had been suffering from the joint sickness recently, using a cane when he was unable to get away without it. Alistair nodded his head to the elder man and sat down in a stiff backed chair across from Eamon.

"Thank you for coming here on such short notice your Majesty," Eamon said.

"Eamon," was all Alistair was willing to say.

"How fares the Queen?" Eamon asked.

"Very well thank you Eamon, she has recovered her strength from the journey and is now fit to return to her duties," Alistair said mechanically, trying to keep his anger in check as he thought of how Elissa would have been better if Eamon hadn't of ruined their little fun this morning.

"She's been back almost a week…" Eamon trailed off, his eyes darting back to his papers.

"Yes she has," Alistair narrowed his eyes at the Arl.

"She was gone for many months,"

"Yes she was," _where is this going?_ Alistair thought.

"Such separation can have quite a strain on married life…" if Alistair didn't know any better he would have sworn he could see red hint into Eamon's cheeks.

"It can do," Alistair said slowly.

"So have you…" Eamon cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Have we… what?" okay, Alistair was official suspicious now.

"Since her return, have you two… um… have you two copulated?" Eamon blurted.

Alistair's mouth hung open as his mind was just scrambled into oblivion. Now he was officially grossed out as he thought of Eamon thinking of him…. **_GROSS! _**

"Eamon!" Alistair recoiled.

"I'm as uncomfortable with this as you are Alistair," Eamon groaned as he placed a hand over his eyes in embarrassment. "So do us both a favour and answer! It's just a simple question, have you or have you not?"

"Yes we have!"

"Oh Maker!" Eamon buried his face in his hands.

They were silent for a several moments, both getting over their horror.

"Eamon why did you summon me here? It's a little late for "the talk" now," Alistair muttered in agony.

"It is my job to know," Eamon growled.

"That's private!"

"It's my job to know that the King and Queen are doing all they can to…" Eamon trailed off.

"What now?!" Alistair felt his cheeks turn crimson as his mind insisted on picturing Eamon checking to make sure Alistair and Elissa did almost every position, act and word in the book.

"To produce an heir," Eamon blurted.

Alistair was moved into stunned silence.

"**_That's_** what this is about?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Alistair, you've been married for six years, it's time you started doing your duty."

"I thought I was doing my duty when I agreed to be your King!" Alistair hissed.

"And part of that demands that you have a child in order to pass on your line,"

Well, technically Alistair already had a bastard child, but he wasn't going to think about that now.

"Even if Elissa and I wanted children it is almost impossible," Alistair crossed his arms over his chest. "The taint in us **_makes_** it impossible,"

"Then have you thought about the… alternative?" Eamon suggested quietly.

Alistair stared at Eamon, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

"You mean sire a bastard?" he whispered. "No, that is out of the question!"

"I didn't mean a bastard Alistair,"

"Then **_what_** did you mean?!"

"Have you ever thought about remarriage?"

Alistair sat there, numb and speechless as he shook with a violent rage.

"Excuse me?!" he whispered in a dangerous tone, his eyes igniting into pools of fire as he glared at Eamon. "What did you say?!"

"Remarry Alistair," Eamon said, his eyes almost sad as he suddenly looked ancient with his old worn features and a soul utterly spent. "Monarchs do it all the time in an attempt to sire an heir,"

"I won't do it," Alistair growled.

"Alistair, please," Eamon's voice was strained as he pleaded with him. "What I suggest is best for everyone –"

Alistair gave a short bark of laughter, it was cold and cruel, and even he realised that it didn't sound like him at all. He returned his furious gaze back to Eamon.

"Oh really?" he asked sarcastically. "Pray tell, in what way would that be best for **_anybody_**?!"

"Elissa is the Hero of Ferelden and an already accomplished Grey Warden, she could retake her position as Commander of the Grey in Ferelden, working towards re-establishing the order here, and no one would second guess her; nothing would be done to her reputation,"

"Just her heart,"

"If you remarried a woman of good standing and good breeding, young enough that you could still impregnate her, you would receive an heir to the throne and your position would be untouchable, with the right bride you could secure an alliance that could allow Ferelden to prosper. Alistair, no matter what you think, you must realise that if you cannot produce an heir then you leave this Kingdom in another state of turmoil which we cannot afford." Eamon said softly, trying to be reassuring, but it only spited Alistair more.

"Let's pretend for a brief second that I'm even allowing the thought to enter my mind," Alistair spat. "Who would you suggest? Not Anora surely, the time for that has been and gone, she would rather lie with a Blight-wolf then sleep with me let alone marry me,"

"Your sarcasm is unappreciated Alistair," Eamon muttered.

"It's the only thing I'm capable of short of **_screaming_** at you,"

Eamon sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"I was thinking of Celine,"

"The Empress of Orlais?" Alistair choked. "Now I know you're mad,"

"Alistair!" Eamon barked as if Alistair were a small boy again; realising his outburst, he quickly cleared his throat and continued in a softer tone. "Alistair, uniting Ferelden and Orlais would be the best thing for this Kingdom,"

"Our people still hate the Orlesians for conquering us,"

"I have not forgotten," Eamon growled. "But the Empress is more than willing to help mend the rift between our people,"

"Our people are almost on the brink of War!" Alistair thundered.

"Which you can help prevent!"

"What makes you think she would even accept the bastard son of Marric as her husband?"

"She was willing to marry Caelian in order to allow an alliance between our countries, and you said so yourself, she's written to you several times on how to prevent these hostilities."

"She wouldn't want me,"

"Not right now: when Caelian died and you took the throne, she fully assumed the deal would be passed to you, instead only six months after your coronation, you marry a fellow Grey Warden. She feels slightly spurned to be rejected for a Teyrn's daughter,"

"That **_Teyrn's daughter_**, is my wife and your Queen," Alistair growled dangerously.

"My point is Alistair, you need to think about what is best for your Kingdom: marrying Celine would offer Ferelden money, power, connections, and security. You would prevent a war with Orlais and prevent a civil war when you produced an heir."

"You forgot to mention the uprising of the people when they refuse such an alliance." Alistair murmured. "The people of Ferelden want Orlesians to earn their respect and then their trust, hurtling them into a marriage so soon will make them turn on us faster than a pack of starving dogs."

"If not Celine then there are others who could be available to you Alistair, you have only to see it and accept that this is what is right."

"No it's not,"

"Don't be stubborn Alistair! This is our Kingdom we're talking about –"

"No, it is **_my_** kingdom, and I shall say if this will continue or not!"

"You're acting like a child," Eamon growled.

"You would know, you only had me long enough to see my terrible twos!"

"Alistair!"

"I warn you Eamon," Alistair growled, raising to his feet and leaning over the desk to glare into Eamon's eyes. "I warn you, do not push me… I am a child no longer, I am the King; and **_I_** will decide this!"

"Just please Alistair," Eamon whispered. "Think about it at least, you could save so many lives…"

Alistair stormed from the study, his chest pumping as he struggled to control the rage inside him, he threw open the door and emerged into the corridor, slamming the door behind him. He stood there heaving for a moment, trying to clear the red haze that had descended over his vision.

There was a slow squeak, and then the door fell off of its hinges.

"His Majesty makes his grand exit," Alistair muttered as he stormed off down the corridor.

He wanted to crush what Eamon had said, never wanted to hear those poisonous words again, wanted to crush them and grind them into the dirt like a darkspawn. He wanted to go hunting, he wanted to kill something, anything, and forget Eamon's madness, the unbelievable cruelty there. He kept telling himself that he couldn't do it, and he wouldn't.

But no matter what he did, Eamon's last words kept echoing through his mind.

Elissa marched through the corridors of the palace, her strides long as she rushed to get to the Throne Room without full on sprinting; the servants on either side of her having to take two steps in order to match her one. Her cloak flowed behind her, and her deep blue robes chimed with each step, hinting at the small pieces of armour she wore, such as wrist guards, shoulder pads and boots. Her hair was up in its usually tight bun other than the two stubborn strands on either side of her face, her crown nestled on her head. She hated the damn thing; she could feel it digging into her temples, causing a dull headache if she left it on for too long. Her star forged blade lay in its scabbard at her belt, her only weapon on her. Bane, her Mabari hound, trotted along lazily beside her – he was still in a mood because they couldn't stay outside.

"Any messages?" she asked the manservant beside her as he ruffled through several letters.

"First Enchanter Irving wishes for an audience with you: he requests that you come to the Circle of Magi in order to inspect the poor conditions the Templars are placing on them," the manservant said breathlessly as he tried to keep up.

"Again?" that was the sixth time in as many months Irving had written to her about the tension that was growing between the Mages and the Templars. Elissa didn't like it, but she didn't know what she was supposed to do: the Templars answered to the Chantry and most members of the Chantry were uneasy around Mages to begin with.

"Irving says that the Templars have increased security to "unacceptable levels"; the new Knight Commander is behaving very "unpredictably"."

"Write to the new Knight Commander, tell him that he is within his rights to increase security if there is a risk but to remember that these are still people he is **_protecting_** not imprisoning. And make sure the he gets the subtle message that I got rid of Commander Cullen for such unacceptable behaviour, and I can do so again…"

"Yes Your Majesty," the manservant scribbled onto a loose parchment as he walked.

"Next?"

"Arl Bryland of South Reach wishes to invite Your Majesties to a tourney that he is holding to celebrate his daughter's engagement next month,"

"He insists on parading such a farce?" Elissa murmured.

The manservant said nothing.

"Anything else?"

"Bann Alfranna wishes to begin rebuilding on lands that were taken by the Blight, she wishes for Your Majesties permission,"

"She has it so long as she is thorough in her scouring of the land: no darkspawn within twenty miles of it, and proper checks to make sure the land is hospitable for them." Elissa said as she ducked unexpectedly around a corner. The manservant had to stop and backtrack, jogging in order to catch her again.

"I will write to her." He said; his breathing becoming almost laborious. "And the King is arranging for a political meet to Kirkwall,"

"The Free City?"

"Yes Your Majesty, with its recent Viscount dead, and many Ferelden refugees living there, the King wishes to make truces against the threat of war."

"When is he planning this?" she asked.

"Right after the Tourney,"

"Very well. Is the King in the Throne Room?"

"Yes, he has withheld starting the Petitions until your arrival,"

"Thank you that will be all," Elissa said. The Manservant bowed and left her.

Elissa finally reached the Throne Room, the guards standing to attention and opening the doors for her with an ominous "boom". As she stepped into the Throne Room, she saw every eye turn to face her, the room falling silent other than the whisper of moving cloth as people bowed to her. Elissa walked with her head held high as she made her way towards the dais at the head of the room. She climbed the stairs where Alistair stood in front of his throne waiting for her. Their gazes locked and for a moment Elissa thought she saw a shadow pass over his face but then it was gone to be replaced by his usual warm smile. He reached out his hand to her, and she took it as she came to stand beside him.

"Sorry I'm late," she whispered to him as they sat down upon their thrones side by side. Bane curled up at her feet and promptly fell asleep – Elissa wished she could join him.

"I'm not letting you get out of it **_that_** easily," he whispered back.

A herald stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment with the list of names for today's petitions. Elissa stared at the long length of the roll that reached all the way down to the floor, her heart sinking as she saw it. This was going to be a long afternoon…

"The Petitions may begin!" The Herald boomed so that the whole room echoed with the force of his voice. He looked at the first name on the scroll. "Daverth Flenly,"

A middle aged man with dark greying hair and a bald spot stepped forward from the crowd, dressed in a pompously puffed outfit that was absurdly decorated with feathers in peculiar places. Elissa remembered seeing him at the Gnawed Noble Tavern in the Market District, what did he want? Daverth Flenly bowed low, his feathers ruffling as if he were some giant peacock.

"You're Majesties," he said with an overly articulated and nasally voice, and Elissa struggled not to sigh with exasperation already, this was going to be a **_really _**long day…

"What does Daveth Flenly wish to present to us?" Alistair asked, his tone only focusing the pissed off frown on his face.

"I wish to present to the King and his Queen-Consort, a matter of a rather personal nature. I own the brewery of Dread-knot Ale here in Denerim, and when the Blight arrived my family was forced to flee, my wife and daughter fled to the City of Highever – or what was left of it – and subsequently acted as refugees from the Blight. My wife… she didn't survive the journey," grief passed over Flenly's face, and he took a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself. "But my daughter made it, and because Denerim was in such a state after the Battle with the Darkspawn, I thought it better if she stayed there until I could provide her once more. But during her stay, my daughter has married bellow her station, to a mage working in the Teyrn's court," he spat the word 'mage' with disgust. "I have demanded she return home to me but she refuses. I would ask of Your Majesties if you wound give me royal order for her marriage to be voided and for her to return to me,"

_Okay decision time, this is going to be __**really**__ difficult,_ Elissa thought sarcastically.

"Why do you wish for her returned?" Alistair asked curtly.

"Your Majesty," Daveth Flenly bowed slightly, a little taken aback by the King's harsh tone – as was Elissa. "My daughter is my only child, and I wish to see her happily married and well cared for, I have a suitable husband ready for her return."

"Can her own husband not provide for her?" Alistair asked.

"Well your Majesty he is a Mage," Daveth said this as if it were obvious. "The Marriage is a disgrace to one such as my daughter,"

"That wasn't what I asked," Alistair growled. "Can he provide for her?"

Elissa looked at Alistair out of the corner of her eye uneasily. What was wrong with him?

"Well, perhaps; the Mage in question serves as a healer for Teyrn Fergus Cousland," Daveth Flenly blustered.

"And what has Teyrn Cousland said on the matter?" Elissa asked; she felt a small hint of hope spark within her at her brother's name, it had been so long since he'd written to her.

"The Teyrn refuses to acknowledge my claim, stating that "the couple" are within their rights under his rule in his lands and he sanctions it," Daveth said furiously.

"And we are inclined to do the same," Alistair said. "Your petition is denied Daveth Flenly, and your daughter and son in law are free to continue their marriage and any children they raise of non-magical birth will be true heirs to your estate as any full blooded human child," Alistair looked at the Herald. "Next,"

"Owen the Baker of Denerim Market District," the Herald called out.

A fat man whose fat flabby face was covered in oily grime and his pot belly sticking out over his belt walked to the bottom of the dais, dragging along a small elven child that whimpered as she was dragged along by the man's brutal fingers that held her arm.

"What does Owen the Baker of Denerim Market District wish to present to us?" Elissa asked. The man thrust the elven girl towards the steps. She shrieked as she tripped over her feet and landed hard on the floor. Elissa felt a slither of anger writhe within her like a snake.

"Your Majesties," Own the Baker said in a deep voice. "I humbly ask that you bring this urchin to justice,"

Elissa looked at the child who sobbed and whimpered on the floor. She had blond hair down to her shoulders and beautiful blue eyes. She seemed so familiar, Elissa thought, where did she know this elf from?

"What has the child done to wrong you?" Alistair asked.

"This one sticks outside my shop cluttering my store front and scaring off customers –"

"I like the smell of the bread," she mumbled pitifully.

"And has on more than one occasion stolen from me,"

"That's not true!" the child shrieked with terror, her eyes filled with tears as she looked helplessly from the Baker straight to Elissa. "I never took anything, I swear!"

"Silence for the King and Queen," the Herald barked and the child instantly fell silent, her lip trembling, her eyes wide on the verge of mad hysteria.

"I've only managed to catch her a few days ago," the Baker continued. "The City Guard refuse to do anything because they "couldn't find any evidence" to support my claim; I know it's her!" he bellowed.

"You will not raise your voice to the King and Queen!" a guard called, reaching for his sword threateningly. The Baker fell silent.

"Where are the child's parents?" Elissa asked.

"Have none," the child whimpered into the ground. "Papa died a long time ago, mama never came home… Grandpa died last winter,"

"Your word is not evidence," Alistair snapped. "Do not waist our time with petty accusations. Leave."

"Not you," Elissa said as she looked at the child. The elven girl looked up at her with wide eyes, her sides heaving to contain her weeping. Elissa motioned for the child to come closer and she did, slowly climbing the steps until she was level with her. "What is your name?" Elissa asked, peering at her face, unable to shake the feeling that she knew her.

"Amethyne," she mumbled.

It all fell into place. Elissa knew this girl because she'd known her mother: Iona, Lady Landra's lady in waiting, who'd come with her to Highever, she'd told Elissa of her daughter – the centre of her mother's life, with her hair and beautiful eyes. Iona had been looking forward to returning to her daughter, but she'd been killed… murdered in her sleep.

"How old are you?" Elissa asked, surprised by how choked her voice sounded, a feeling stiring in her heart.

"Twelve," she whispered.

**_Maker and sweet Andraste_**, Elissa thought, she was barely a child, six years old when her mother had died – a baby. Elissa looked at the little girl, a maternal instinct she never thought she'd feel washing through her. She'd known her mother, she felt as if she owed it to the dead to see this child safe; the child had probably been living in squalor and isolation since her mother's death – **_no child should live like that_**.

"Teagan?" Elissa said.

"Yes my Queen?" she heard his gentle voice as he came to stand a few feet from her. Elissa looked at him, hoping she didn't look as rattled as she felt.

"Take this child to be bathed and fed and clothed and then take her to my Chambers; I will decide on what to do with her," she said. Teagan nodded, and then led the child away.

"Next," Alistair called out.

The Petitions went on and on: Farmers wanting to settle disputes with the Dalish, miners claiming to have seen darkspawn stragglers, remote villagers pleading for soldiers to protect them from bandits – all the usual stuff. But Elissa was uneasy, Alistair had been in a foul mood all through the Petitions, menace and anger radiating off of him. Elissa wanted to reach across and squeeze his hand, to cuff his ear and demand he tell her what was bothering him so – it's what she would have done in the good old days when they'd been on the road together. But now they were King and Queen, things were much more complicated now. But she made a mental note to cuff him upside the head as soon as they were alone.

It was mid-afternoon when Teagan re-entered the hall and whispered something in Alistair's ear. Alistair had quickly declared the Petitions over and he quickly went to leave the room.

"Alistair –" she began softly.

"Not now," he whispered, not even glancing over his shoulder as he walked out, leaving Elissa and she suddenly felt… abandoned.

Elissa clenched her hands, a sudden fury boiling inside of her like the fires of Orzammar. Alistair might have been pissed off for whatever reason but he had no right to just _dismiss_ her like that! Was it because she'd left him from their little game this morning? She didn't think Alistair could be that petty, could he? He'd never been, the whole time they'd been married.

"Good Afternoon, my Queen,"

Elissa almost jumped at the sound of Eamon's voice as it brought her out of her thoughts. She looked at him, surprised to find him right next to her – he could move rather silently for an older fellow.

"Arl Eamon," Elissa smiled. "Good afternoon to you,"

"Would you accompany me?" he asked. By way of answering, Elissa smiled weakly and stood, Bane scrambling to his feet as his paws skidded on the polished floor.

"Do you mind if we head into the gardens?" she asked. "I need some air,"

Eamon nodded.

They were silent as they walked out into the massive gardens that stretched behind Denerim's Royal Palace, a small sheltered expanse of great green hedges sculpted into various forms, beautiful flowers of every colour blooming despite the late season, fountains and brilliantly carved statues marking the way of the path for them like silent sentinel guards. Elissa had found herself quite at odds with such a beautiful sight after the battle of Denerim – this garden had been the only thing untouched by the horde of Darkspawn that had claimed and almost completely destroyed the rest of the city. The one touch of beauty amidst such horror.

Elissa walked heavily, as if someone had filled her boots with lead whilst she wasn't looking. She felt tired down to her bones, her eyes heavy and her body seemed to carry her of its own accord, her brain simply slipping in and out of consciousness. She stifled a yawn as she tried to focus herself on staying with Eamon. Her first week back at court had been a tough one: she'd had to see to the building work on the defences of the city, gone to training sessions for the new members of the city guard, gone on rides out to some miles outside the city in order to oversee the preparations for the new military system they were installing in the outer fields around Denerim, she'd had to help with overseeing the port and the building of the new navy that was being built, repairs to the city and then she had forced herself to appear in the alienage so that she was making the point that she was overseeing _all_ of her subjects. It had been a very tiring week; it had been six years – six years since the end of the blight and they were **_still_** cleaning up from the damage. Some fields out in the Bannorn and middle of Ferelden were already back to their full strength, helped along by the healing magic of the Mages, others would still take a few years to be totally rid of the corruption, and some others would take decades. Only a week back from Amaranthine and Elissa was already beginning to think that killing Darkspawn was **_joyous_**.

Bane seemed to hold no such fatigue: he bounded through the gardens; his legs a mere blur as he raced over lawns and leapt over rose bushes, barking excitedly at the slightest sound. Elissa chuckled as she watched him; one would think he hadn't been outside in a year with the amount of pent up energy he had. But Elissa was glad to see him and his bundled energy also, she'd missed it in her long stay at Amaranthine.

"Are you well Your Majesty?" Eamon asked, his voice soft as he studied her.

"As well as I can be," Elissa replied with a sigh, struggling not to rip off her damn crown as she felt her head give another painful stab as if someone were knocking a hammer to the inside of her skull. "I just need to readjust to the life of court,"

"Readjust?"

"Being Commander of the Grey and being Queen of Ferelden are two different things," she smiled.

"How so?" he raised an eyes brow and Elissa recognised that look, her tutor used to give her the exact same look when he knew he finally had her interest in the chosen subject and was pulling at the string of interest, challenging her with a philosophical exchange. And Elissa felt something odd stir in her stomach, as if she were a child again, rising to the challenge – Eamon always seemed to bring out that side of her, as if he were a patient grandfather who could make her feel like a real adult but also a child at the same time basking in his wisdom.

"Well, when you are the Commander of the Grey, you are running a military: you train, you discipline your men, you seek out the enemy and you destroy it. As a Grey Warden you live by the Code: in war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice. That is the way of the Grey Wardens, we give everything to the cause, we protect the innocent, we remain neutral but fight for what is right. As a Grey Warden you fight for the survival of yourself and your comrades and those innocents standing behind you,"

"And how is that different from being Queen?"

"When being a Queen, you are no longer neutral: your right in the middle of every little thing and you are forced to pick a side no matter how much you don't want to, and there are repercussions with every choice. You don't fight with your sword, you must fight with your mind and then you cannot face a threat head on, you must work around it and play the game of your enemies and deal your cards instead of smashing the game table into the wall. Instead of trusting those around you to always have your back and each other's there is constant battle for power which you must manage encase it ever involves you."

"But there is one thing they have in common: you must protect the innocent," Eamon mused.

"Even that is different," Elissa groaned and felt her shoulders slump as if from some huge weight that had been dumped on her back like a ton of bricks. "As a Grey Warden you fight to the last bitter breath to save the innocent, but you can die knowing that should you fall three more comrades that you trust with your life will take your place and fight all the harder to avenge you. As Queen, you fight with everything you have, but you know you cannot fall, because if you do, then there will be no one there to take your place."

"You sound as if you truly hate it," Eamon's voice was soft… like how her father's used to be… when he'd come in to sooth her back to sleep after a nightmare, his arms tight around her. Elissa felt the ghost of a shudder run through her at the memory, as she took a deep breath to steady herself. She had thought she'd stopped shedding tears for the dead. Apparently they were still there to haunt her.

"Sometimes I hate it more than Alistair does," she muttered truthfully as she sank onto a stone bench sheltered beneath a willow tree that hung over a pond behind her. Eamon sat beside her, his hands folded in his lap. Bane came over, quietly as if he sensed the emotion in the air, and bumped his nose against Elissa's hand comfortingly.

They sat in silence, just listening to the sounds of the world around them.

"Would you be happier as Commander of the Grey?" Eamon asked quietly.

Elissa thought for a moment, suddenly unsure how to answer. She opened her mouth to say something, but what came out was:

"Maybe." She murmured. "The Elder Wardens hate how I do things: I use my Grey Warden status to get mixed up in other people's problems and then use my power in order to do what I believe is right, not what I should do."

"Just like with the Landsmeet," Eamon said softly.

"Yes," Elissa chuckled. "Let me tell you, the Order was _not impressed_. But I think, that if it wasn't for Alistair… then yes I might have preferred to become a Grey Warden,"

"So if you and Alistair were no longer together you would become a Grey Warden once more,"

"I don't know," she sighed, petting Bane as he growled softly – probably saw a squirrel or something. "Either way, I can only manage with what I am given. Ferelden is a better place because of what I've achieved. It's just that some days can be… difficult."

"What if… you stepped down to become a Grey Warden once more," Eamon murmured.

"What?" Elissa stuttered, spinning to face him, surely she must have miss heard him.

"My dear, you are a respectable woman, you come from an ancient and powerful family, and you have made great accomplishments of your own merit, and Ferelden will forever owe you a debt that can never be repaid." Eamon stood, facing towards the pond, not looking at her as he spoke as if explaining a simple calculation to a child. Elissa's ears burned as her heart began to pound. "But Alistair is the King now, and he needs an heir, or else we risk another civil war for the Throne once he is gone. And you have failed to produce a child,"

Elissa actually flinched at those words, something deep inside of her wounded by that statement. She hadn't thought it could hurt her – she'd come to terms with the fact that she would never have children – but that _did_ hurt, a lot.

"We could save so much suffering, so much unnecessary fighting if such a child could be born. But you cannot do this, so we must find someone else who can,"

"What are you saying?" Elissa couldn't breathe, the air felt too thick; she held onto the ruff of Bane's neck as he growled at Eamon, whether to steady herself or the Mabari she didn't know.

"You must step down as Queen, and take up arms again as Commander of the Grey – the Wardens still need you, and so does Ferelden, the Blight may have ended but the Darkspawn still threaten us – as the incident in Amaranthine has proven. In the meantime, Alistair will remarry someone of good birth and political standing, and he shall produce an heir so that his line may continue."

"Why are you telling me this?" she felt her voice come out as a hoarse whisper, but couldn't care as she glared at Eamon's back.

"Because I owe you my honesty," he whispered as he turned his ancient sad eyes towards her. "You saved my life and that of my family; you saved Ferelden and gave it its rightful King. I owe you at least the truth: your marriage to Alistair is fruitless and therefore pointless,"

Elissa felt herself flinch again and stood, her eyes brimming with furious tears as she stared at Eamon in outrage.

"Fruitless?!" she spat, shaking from the force of her rage. "Alistair and I have saved this Kingdom and brought it back from the brink of utter destruction, we've rebuilt it brick by brick, and you can tell me that it is **_pointless_**?! As I recall you were standing right by Alistair at the alter, happy to marry us!"

"Yes, and I tell you honestly that I wish I did not have to do this – I can see the happiness that you bring each other, you love him. But I'm afraid to say that love isn't enough, the King needs an heir,"

"Who's side are you on?!"

"Ferelden," Eamon didn't miss a beat. "I serve the realm for the good of the realm. Anora would have made an excellent Queen, but I knew that the people deserved and needed the blood of King Calenhad that flows in Alistair's veins, because it was what was right for the realm. I knew that I should go back to Redcliff to rule my people but I stayed here because I knew it was right for the realm. And I know that what is right for the realm is for Alistair to have an heir. An heir that you cannot provide,"

"You can't do this!" She thundered, her eyes filled with a terror she had never felt in all her life. Eamon wanted her to leave Alistair?! She couldn't, her heart literally threatened to stop as it gave a painful twist at the mere thought.

"You're right," Eamon whispered, ever patient, ever respectful – he seemed genuinely ashamed by what he was doing. And that only infuriated her further. "I can't make you do anything, but I am asking you: think of what you're doing. It is for the good of the Kingdom."

"What did Alistair say," she heard herself say just above a whisper.

Eamon didn't say anything, he just stared at the ground.

"Damn you!" Elissa roared like a dragon, and launched herself at Eamon, her hands curled around his waistcoat, as she slammed him into the willow tree, her teeth bared as she came nose to nose with him. "What. Did. He. Say?!"

"The King refuses to comment," Eamon whispered.

Elissa found herself completely stunned, her body unable to move as her mind struggled to comprehend those words. Alistair hadn't agreed to it… but he hadn't refused either. Suddenly she felt the supports of her world heavy and crumble, threatening to tear apart inside her. She was so shocked she didn't even register Eamon removing her hands from him and walking away. Elissa merely stood there, her eyes unseeing as she stared into oblivion, unable to come to terms with the hole that had just been smashed through her chest.

She was only dimly brought back to the world when Bane licked her limp fingers, whining softly.

It was all she could do as she turned to head back into the castle, her body simply going through the motions as it lead her back to the safety of the Royal apartments, she struggled not to simply crumble to the floor and weep.

_She was close._

_The lamb wanders back into the castle like a sleeper returning to its bed, or an undead shuffling along without thought or care. _

_The Lamb is unaware that it is being stalked right this moment; it is unaware of the breath down its neck or the teeth just a mere inch away. _

_It does not know that the Wolf is preparing his leap as he blends into the field. _

_The Wolf does not want to kill the lamb._

_But he must._

_And he will._

Alistair climbed the stairs to the royal chambers, his boots feeling almost as heavy as his heart. He just wanted to curl up in his bed and pray to not wake up, allow the Fade to take him once and for all. He could swear that the council and the Bannorn were trying to make his life a living hell: Teagan had called him away from the Petitions so that Alistair could assemble the small council without Eamon's interference. He'd needed to get to the bottom of this whole wife swapping business: and the small council had all tried to get on his good side by explaining Eamon's plot and how they all had nothing to do with it! But… **_just encase,_** they had plenty of daughters and nieces if he was interested.

Alistair sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he felt a headache pounding into the back of his skull. The Royal Court was full such hypocrisy; Alistair found that he had to restrain himself from punching a wall sometimes. This whole affair was a huge embarrassment to everyone, and he wanted to block out the whole thing, to deny it and crush it into dust, apart from the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that it **_was_** the right thing to do.

The question was, could he forgive himself if he did?

Could Elissa forgive him?

He believed that if she thought that it was absolutely right and there was no other alternative then… he didn't know.

Elissa always did what she thought was the right thing to do, sometimes without thought for the consequences – like killing Loghain, when – in hindsight – it was clear that they needed him alive, she'd shared Alistair's view of justice and had allowed him to kill Loghain. It had then been revealed that had they left him alive, they could have avoided so much strife.

And sometimes she was prepared to make the sacrifice.

And strangely he remembered that night before the eve of battle six years ago, the night before the Battle of Denerim, when they'd learned that one of them needed to die. Alistair had spent hours in his room shivering from pure terror as his mind insisted on showing him visions of Elissa, standing defiant before the Archdemon, even as it almost tore her in half she would bring it down and she would look at him, her eyes shining with tears as she drove her sword into the Dragon's skull. She would scream as the creature's soul would try to overcome her, destroying her from the inside, and they would both fall to the ground, dead at his feet. Alistair had awaken from countless nightmares sweating, shivering and sobbing as he thought of losing her, of picking up her body and screaming her name. He'd made the conscious decision that should he accompany her to kill the Archdemon, he would do whatever it took to not allow her to kill it, he would be the one to make the final blow. He couldn't risk losing her; he would knock her out if he had to. And he'd known that she would do exactly the same – she'd do anything to keep him safe.

Then, she'd come into his room, he'd been pacing, unable to face anymore nightmares, instead counting down the hours until he was called for battle. She'd been crying, he could see that she was struggling not to burst into tears; she held her chest as if to stop herself from falling apart. He'd thought she'd been having dreams like his, and he tried to comfort her. But her next words had stopped him in his tracks.

"Alistair, you know I love you… right?" she'd whispered.

And she'd told him of Morrigan's dark ritual, how Alistair had to sleep with the Witch in order to conceive a child that would be able to absorb the soul of the Archdemon when it died, saving them both. He'd been rattled; he'd tried to pass it off that she was joking, making light of it: be killed by the Archdemon or sleep with Morrigan? How does someone make that kind of choice? But in truth, he'd been utterly terrified. She was asking him to betray her, to create a demon baby with Morrigan, for him to become his father and sire a bastard, one that could potentially have the power to cause great harm to Ferelden. He'd demanded the details and she'd told him all she knew. She'd looked at the floor, her cheeks burned with her tears of shame. She had been prepared for him to sleep with Morrigan and betray her in the most intimate way possible, she'd been prepared for him to do it because she was begging him, and she'd been prepared for him to finish the ritual and refuse to ever speak to her again with disgust. She'd been willing to pay the ultimate price, but she would rather lose him then see him die. And he knew that if the situation was reversed he would have done exactly the same.

Instead he'd come out of the ritual, his skin crawling with self-loathing and disgust, and he'd found himself in Elissa's room, and she knew without words what he'd needed. Instead of turning her away, he'd come to her. They'd held each other in the dark, simply lying there together praying that they wouldn't have to face the dawn.

Alistair had promised himself he'd never let her go, that he would make sure the agony of that night had been worth it, and that he would never lose her. And now, he was considering doing just that.

He didn't want to; Maker knew he didn't want to! But Eamon's words kept whispering their poisonous thoughts in his head, that if he could just sire an heir, then he could prevent another civil war.

He came into the royal apartments, closing the doors behind him with a defeated sigh. Maker, his head was pounding.

He then saw that Bane was lying in the middle of the reception room, his head lying on his paws, his dark eyes staring at Alistair. The blunt tail that usually wagged whenever he saw the human king, was motionless and instead of barking with joy, the Mabari was silent and only grumbled when Alistair tried to approach.

"What's up with you?" Alistair asked.

The Mabari growled softly, picked its massive muscled body up and turned around with its butt facing Alistair and deliberately sat back down, his back to the human.

Silent treatment from a Mabari. Now Alistair knew that the world was mad.

Ignoring Bane, Alistair strolled through the other rooms making for the Royal Bed Chambers, but stopped just outside the door when he heard voices inside.

"I swear, I didn't do anything wrong!" came a little squeak of a voice, perhaps a young girl's. A servant perhaps?

"I know you didn't," came Elissa's voice, and Alistair felt his heart become heavy with guilt at just the sound of that familiar sigh, sounding so wise and so regal but tempered by the slightest hint of a growl like thunder in spring rain. "I didn't bring you here to punish you,"

"Then what?" came the little voice again. Definitely not a servant, they would never even dream of speaking to Elissa like that even in their worst nightmares.

"I want to offer you the chance to become my Lady in Waiting," Elissa said calmly.

"W-what?" the voice squeaked.

"I knew your mother Amethyne," he heard Elissa murmur softly. "And I owe her a debt; I would take you in and give you a better life. As my Lady in Waiting, you would need to help me with my letters, attend public engagements with me, help to manage my private affairs, you would be head of the servants tending to my personal chambers and clothing; but you would be well fed and clothed and I could educate you. It's not a bad life, far better than what you would get in the alienage."

"I-I, I don't know," the little voice sobbed.

"It's alright, hush…" Elissa soothed the voice. "You don't have to say yes, if you want I can send you back to the alienage but I will provide enough money so that you can live comfortably, it is completely your choice,"

"Can… C-can I stay with the doggy?"

"Yes of course you can," Elissa chuckled. "You can help me take care of Bane, but I warn you: he's a full blooded war hound."

"I know some elf boys with more bite," came the little reply.

Elissa laughed, and Alistair heard a few more murmured words and then he dashed away from the door as he heard footsteps coming closer. The door opened and a little elven girl came out, with beautiful eyes and golden hair. Alistair could have sworn he recognised her… ah yes! She was in the Petitions, the one Elissa had taken a strange interest in.

The girl looked up at him, her eyes big and suddenly frightened as she beheld him. Her lip almost began to tremble as she stood staring at him. Then her brain caught up with her and she did a hasty curtsy. Alistair nodded to her, and the girl quickly walked away as fast as she could without running.

"Alistair?"

His head snapped around; he'd never heard Elissa's voice like that. She'd called out to him, barely above a hoarse whisper, but her voice seemed strained, almost weak. Even when she'd asked him to cheat on her she had never sounded so utterly helpless; she been ashamed but never so… wounded.

She was sitting on the bed, looking at him with big eyes that he knew housed as much fear as the elven girl had, no matter how much she tried to hide it. He came into the room, closing the door behind him and began to unbuckle his cape and sword, his kept wandering back to her, and noticed that she was staring at him, her gaze guarded as if she were a deer about to bolt.

"Are you alright?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"Yes, just some business with the small council," he replied with a sigh. "Are you alright?" he asked softly as he turned to face her.

She didn't say anything, only stared at her hands as she fiddled with a locket in her fingers.

"I spoke with Eamon," she said, her voice croaked and she had to clear her throat.

Alistair felt himself stiffen and he stared at her as he felt the panic begin to mount inside him.

"Alistair," she said softly. "You…Y-you would tell me if… if we were okay, right?" she asked him, and when she looked up at him he saw her eyes glistening with tears that she was desperately trying to hold back.

He crossed the space between them in two large strides, and he gathered her up in his arms and held her close to his chest, squeezing her tightly, his fingers clawing into her back and in her hair, pressing her close to him as if he never wanted to let go. He felt her shudder as she sobbed involuntarily and clung to him just as desperately, tears streaking down her face and into his shoulder as her ragged breathing marked her quiet sobbing.

"Hush, it's alright," he whispered soothingly in her ear, and he felt her shudder a little harder as she began to weep. "Of course I'd tell you, you know I would,"

"I love you," she whispered, her voice desperate as if she were trying to convince him of this absolute fact. "I will **always **love you,"

He knew that she knew. She knew Eamon's horrid plan because the old fool had told her, and Alistair felt something in him roar with fury. Eamon had gone behind his back, when Alistair had told him to leave the conversation; he'd tried to make the decision for him by planting doubt in his wife's head and sabotaging his marriage from the inside. He'd hurt her, the last time Alistair had seen Elissa this shaken had been when she'd finally allowed herself to grieve for her family, she'd wept into Alistair's arms and he'd held her for what had seemed like hours. And now Eamon had hurt her almost as badly. Alistair wouldn't stand for it; whatever he was thinking about this whole retched business he was going to make his fucking mind up quick and end the suffering for them all, and then, whatever the outcome, he was going to get his retribution on Eamon, he was going to make the man know that this _would not_ be tolerated!

He held Elissa, promising her that whatever was going on he was going to get it sorted, so that neither of them could be in this limbo of pain for any longer than necessary. He kissed her, and felt her cling to him as she desperately sort his reassurance, his love, and he held her like she had him that night six years ago. Holding each other in the dark, praying that they would not need to face the dawn.


	3. Chapter 3 - Decisions

A/N: hi, publishing this chapter a little early because it is shorter(ish), am now hoping to publish every Thursday although I hope a bit more often if I can, but that's the basic guide line. this chapter focuses on Alistair making his fucking mind up on what he's going to do. I've mapped out the story, and I think it will be nine-ten chapters long. I hope you'll stick with me! :) please comment and review as I would love to hear the feedback, THANK YOU! :D

* * *

Chapter 3

The banners were flying high and streaming a rainbow of colours in the wind, the summer heat of the sun was undermined by the cool and steady breeze. South Reach was beautiful in the sun; Arl Bryland had set up for the tourney in the fields behind his castle, and there were perhaps twenty of the Bannorn and other nobles and hundreds of common spectators in the stands that had been set up.

The Tourney was well under way, it was the second day and all the young knights and sons of the nobility were proving their worth in the bouts. The first day had been started with contests of Archery and hand to hand combat. Today was the real entertainment: jousting. Tomorrow, the final day, was to hold a tournament of armed combat in groups and one to one.

Elissa sat in the main box, in the seat of honour with Alistair sitting at her side; her gowns of emerald green flowing onto the floor, her pale hair braided with her crown pressing against her temples irritably. Alistair was wearing a matching green cloak and he sat watching the bouts with increasing frustration and interest. They were surrounded by Arl Bryland's family, whilst Arl Bryland and his wife sat on their left, their daughter – the girl of the hour – sat on their right, dressed in a radiant red gown, her brown hair cascading around her, her big doe like eyes watching the bouts with girlish excitement. Her fiancé was out among the other competitors on horseback, a striking young fellow with a mane of brown hair with streaks of gold. Whenever he won a bout he would raise his hand to the crowd, and then blow elaborate kisses towards his beautiful fiancé.

Elissa sighed, her irritation growing as she wanted the next bout to continue.

"Bored?" Alistair whispered so that only she could hear.

"Just wishing this fool would hurry along so I could see the next contestant," she muttered. "You?"

"Extremely,"

"You want to join in?" she smiled slyly.

"Don't even tempt me you little minx," he hid his smile behind his fingers as he rested his chin on his hand.

Elissa forced a smile and turned back to watch the next match as the young nobleman trotted off. Things had still been strained between her and Alistair since that day Eamon had told her of his "brilliant plan"; it had been a month, and Alistair had told her that he would find a way to sort this out.

She was beginning to panic as she wondered if he **_could_**.

* * *

Alistair walked down the long corridor, rubbing his face in order to try and be rid of his fatigue, but no matter how hard he tried his irritation was only growing. The banquet he had just left would have been tedious at best, but that had just been at the bottom of his "awkward and shitty nights" list. He'd had to sit through five courses of food and then twenty speeches from various boring moronic noblemen whom he couldn't remember the names of. He'd only managed to get through it because he was downing the ale like Oghren in a Chantry. Then **_he_** was the one forced to give a speech, saying something along the lines of how the bride-to-be was very beautiful, her family well loved by the crown, how she would go far in life blah, blah, blah…

Usually Elissa made such social affairs enjoyable, even fun, but for the past month things had been getting steadily worse between them. He still hadn't figured out what to do about this whole re-marriage situation. Thank the Maker the Landsmeet didn't know of it yet, that at least gave Alistair a little more time, but soon he knew Eamon would grow impatient and would force his hand.

The more Alistair thought about the situation the more he leaned towards overruling it completely, and then he would glance at the consequences and then would begin to doubt the decision and become conflicted all over again. In one corner, he loved Elissa with all his heart: she was his first love, the woman he had given himself to for the first time, the woman he had been prepared to die for, the woman whom he had sworn to the Maker and Andraste that he would never forsake and love till the end of his days, and she was also the rightful Queen through a legitimate marriage to him and the Hero of Ferelden. In the other corner, he needed an heir (as much as he hated to admit it) or else war would break out once he was dead, and either Antiva or Orlais would seize the opportunity and take his Kingdom. Alistair couldn't do that to his people, his father had finally been the one to liberate them and Alistair might be the one to put them back under oppression. What Eamon proposed was a tactical thing, and despite the fact that it was hurting those closest to him, Alistair knew that Eamon regretted his decision to bring it up. Eamon was not an evil man, he wasn't doing this for personal gain, he was doing this because he knew it was the best thing to do – it wasn't the right thing, but it was the best thing.

Alistair growled as he felt his headache take on a higher pitch of intensity.

He rounded the corner, meaning to head for the gardens for some air, he couldn't stand South Reach's stuffy, flamboyant castle that seemed to loom around him, making him feel as if the walls were closing in on him.

He saw a door that was curiously unguarded, but counted his blessings as he went for it, noting that if no guard saw him he could at least have a moment's peace whilst everyone tried to look for him.

He stopped when he heard a high pitched giggling, followed by hushed whispers. He turned, and saw a door – perhaps a cupboard or storage room of some description. He heard the voice of a woman, giggling and gasping as she spoke in a rather obnoxiously loud whisper, and then a hushed male voice that whispered and cooed, chuckling deeply.

"I've ain't never done this before sir," the woman was saying, a slight accent on her voice indicating that she was from the south and not educated. "My father would calls me a whore if he knew,"

"Your father's not here my sweet," the male voice purred.

Alistair felt himself blush and he fidgeted uncomfortably. He wanted to leave, to just cough and go and try to forget it but he was rooted to the spot like a teenage pre-Templar boy trying to sneak a peek at female mages in the changing rooms.

"Are you going to miss me?" the woman asked breathlessly. "When you leave for your home with her?"

"Of course I will," the male said gruffly.

"Can't you take me with you?" she pleaded. "I want to be your bed-wife, your court-sand,"

"That's **_courtesan,_**" the man grunted. "And if you want to come with me…" he trailed off so that Alistair could thankfully not hear the rest.

"Oh I will my lord!" the woman gasped, and Alistair's ears pricked a little. "Oh my Lord Danly!"

Alistair knew that name, by the Maker he didn't know half the royal court, but that name he could swear he knew. With a loud clomp of his boots and a cough – just to be sure they heard him – he marched up to the door and swung it open with a bang.

Two figures jumped apart with a squeal. One was a woman, her matted dirty brown hair a tangle and half undone, her apron and skirts ruffled as she tried to hook her shoulder straps back on. The man was young with a mane of dark brown hair with streaks of gold, his face considered handsome by his strong jaw and jarring blue eyes. Alistair recognised him – the young lad from the tourney, the very reason he was here. This was young Danly, Bann Bronach's son, and now engaged to Arl Bryland's daughter, Medina. He'd been missing from the latter half of the banquet, complaining of a headache and shoulder pain from a fall in the tourney, but now Alistair could see how well his "injuries" were doing.

"Leave us," he muttered.

The girl's lip trembled as she curtsied and rushed away out of sight, the young nobleman looked at the floor, his cheeks burning red, his eyes glaring at the floor as he folded his hands in front of himself.

Alistair glared at him, trying to breath evenly as he waited.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Alistair said, trying to fill the silence that Danly refused to break. "But are you not engaged to a rather beautiful young lady?"

"Yes my King," Danly murmured, still not looking up.

"A lady who's hand in marriage would give you much political power because of her bloodline," Alistair continued.

"Yes my King,"

"A lady who obviously care's for you because she had half a mind to find you and nurse you back to health because of your poor "headache", something only her father stopped her from doing because she needed to entertain her guests,"

"Yes my king,"

"And yet you were here, in a dark and dingy cupboard, fulfilling your desires with the first woman who opened her legs,"

Danly's cheeks went bright crimson.

"What was her name?"

"Medina, daughter of Arl Bryland," the boy whispered, his eyes shining as he tried to seek Alistair's sympathy.

"Not her you idiot, the servant girl, what was her name?"

Danly stared blankly at the floor.

"Look at me!" Alistair hissed. Danly's Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to swallow and slowly raised his wide and fearful eyes up until he almost looked directly into Alistair's blazingly furious stare. "What was that servant girl's name?!"

"I-I, I don't…"

"You will walk out of here," Alistair instructed, pointing an accusing finger at the boy as if he were wielding the power of life and death with it. "You will go to your room and in the morning you will show Medina how much you love her and how much you are prepared to make this marriage a happy one for her. You will never touch another woman again so long as you are promised to her, and when you swear your vows to the Maker you will NEVER forsake them! If I **_ever _**hear even a rumour that you have broken your vows to her or that she is unhappy in any way, you will be removed from court and disgraced for what you really are – you know how fast those who fall from favour perish don't you?"

The young man nodded; his face as white as a sheet.

"Now get out of my sight,"

As the young man hastily ran off, Alistair stood there, fuming.

This selfish idiot thought he could do as he pleased because he thought it was his right to. If Medina had done such a thing she would have been instantly ruined beyond all recognition by the court and by the Chantry for being unfaithful, and any or all of her children would have been questioned as true heirs, and she would have been a laughing stock and an embarrassment. But because Danly was a young man, it was acceptable.

Alistair tried to imagine himself doing what he had just seen: going behind closed doors in an attempt to quench his thirst for skirts and corsets when he could already get it within his own bed. Disgust filled him as he pictured his hands over the servant girl, pressing her against the shelves of a dark and stinking cupboard, pleasing himself and then strolling out again leaving her to pick herself up.

Then, strangely, he had the image of Elissa, after he left her in the dust, someone else coming along to pick up the pieces and putting her back together and then loving her, his hands all over her, his lips on her neck, and then after getting what he wanted, leaving her in the dust once more.

Rage filled him, the fact that someone would dare touch her making his blood boil, the fact that they would hurt her made him almost explode w–

And he felt like he'd just been smacked in the face with the brick of common sense.

* * *

Elissa sat facing the mirror at the dressing room table, Amethyne behind her brushing out her pale hair. She didn't need the girl to do this, but it gave her something to do in the meantime before they went back to court. The elven girl was coming along in leaps and bounds; she was just as smart and resourceful as her mother had once described her. She handled all the letters, knew which visitors to allow when, and she even had a good eye when it came to outfits – Leliana would have loved that about her, Elissa thought. She'd noticed Amethyne looking curiously whenever Elissa did her sparring in the training grounds, and thought of how she could get the young flower to be interested enough to take up the sword without cringing in fear.

And she was oddly tender when she knew that her mistress's heart was breaking.

She watched her reflection with the large grey eyes and wondered if this was what the Maker saw: a pitiful woman who thought she was strong, who could take on an Archdemon, slay hundreds of Dawkspawn, but when it came to her own marriage she was an utter failure.

This limbo that she and Alistair were in couldn't go on for much longer, it was killing them both.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, she looked at Amethyne in the mirror, and the girl nodded before sweeping off to the large door. She opened it only a crack, peering out. When she saw who it was she quickly swung the door wide open.

"Thank you Amethyne," Alistair said as he walked into the chambers. Amethyne seemed almost gobsmacked that the King knew her name, and Elissa tried not to smile. "Could you give us a moment of privacy?"

Amethyne looked uncertainly to Elissa; the girl was no fool – she knew there were problems between them. Elissa felt a lick of pride at the girl's loyalty.

"It's alright," she said softly. "Stand outside and be sure no one interrupts us,"

Amethyne nodded and bowed to them both, before turning around and exiting the room.

Alistair looked at her reflection in the mirror, Elissa could feel his eyes on her as she tried to busy herself with putting all of her pins and jewellery away.

"Elissa," he murmured, his voice trailing off slightly.

"My King," Elissa said coolly as she got up without turning to him and walked towards the bed.

Alistair recoiled as if he'd just been slapped in the face. She never called him that, they had never called the other by their titles, not even when they were angry; it was always with their names, like ordinary people, an ordinary couple.

But this last month had proven to Elissa that they were not an ordinary couple. And now their very status as "a couple" was hanging in the balance and Alistair was inclined to watch as he tried to figure out how to cut the thread. She sat on the bed, looking at her folded hands, allowing the mattress to take her weight. She hated this room, one of the best of Arl Bryland's guest rooms but she felt claustrophobic and so far away from home. She would have given anything to be back at home in her own bed with Alistair curled around her. Or better yet, she wanted to be back at the campfire, lying on the cold hard floor, the fire crackling noisily beside her, Alistair laying on his mat next to her, his arms around her as they slept, not a care in the world and nothing between them.

"Elissa," Alistair said again. "I'm sorry, if I could take away the pain I would,"

"So you've made your decision," she felt her rage boil as her voice cracked.

"Yes," he murmured. Elissa took a deep breath.

"Fine," she whispered, and strode over towards the great trunk at the end of the bed, kicking it open as she reached in for her armour and weapons. "I will write to Weisshaupt Fortress, and tell them that I am reinstating myself as Commander of the Grey in Ferelden, I will travel to Amaranthine tonight and **_you_** can write to the Divine to see if she will annul this marriage,"

"What?!" Alistair looked at her, his eyes wide with panic. "What are you doing?"

"Alistair please don't make this harder than it already is," Elissa whispered, her fists clenching as tears gathering in her eyes.

"No, I want you here with me,"

"And what?!" she snapped. "Be your mistress? No Alistair, I couldn't do it at the Landsmeet, I can't do it now," a single tear escaped her as her heart began to crumble. "I can't share you, and I can't see you with someone else."

"I don't want to share," Alistair said hoarsely. "I don't want anyone, I just want you,"

"Then why are you doing this to me?!"

"I'm not!"

Elissa stared at him in disbelief.

"W-what?"

He came to her, until he was only an inch away from her face and all she could see was his eyes.

"I'm not; I've been a complete and utter fool and now I'm going to set it right,"

"What about Eamon –"

"Fuck Eamon," Alistair said. "If he thinks I'll abandon the woman I love then too bad, I'm not giving her up,"

"You choose me?"

"I'll **_always_** choose you,"

She sat back down on the bed, the world suddenly spinning around her. She felt the mattress dip as Alistair sat down beside her. He presented her with something and she looked, trying to will her eyes back into focus before she realised that they were tears.

It was a single red rose, absolutely beautiful, blood red, in full bloom the thorns stripped from the stem and a single leaf fanning out below the velvet petals. For a moment she was taken back in time to when Alistair presented her with the exact same rose, in full bloom, its petals soft and arching, releasing a pleasing fragrance. She was rendered utterly speechless as she stared at the flower in her hand.

"A-Alistair…" was all she could choke out past the lump in her throat.

"I went back to Lothering," he told her softly. "I had to see for myself the damage. It was horrible, so much destruction, I wondered if anyone could rebuild over such a horror, or would this forever mark the land that such evil occurred here. And then I found the Rose bush, exactly as I had left it, by the ruins of the Chantry, it had wilted and was dying but for a single red rose. I looked at it, and thought to myself: admist such destruction, when everything around it had fallen apart, this one rose had remained strong, fearless and utterly beautiful and precious. I didn't want to pick it, but I had to, I couldn't bear to see it succumb to such despair and horror, and then I've had it ever since,"

"And yet you give it to me?" she asked quietly.

"I think of the exact same thing when I look at you, but I won't let you be alone if the world around us should crumble. I won't –"

"You got this from the garden didn't you?"

Alistair opened his mouth to say something, then shut it just as quickly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Saw right through me didn't you,"

"Plain as day," she smiled.

And then he leaned over and kissed her, **_really_** kissed her.

"Don't ever do this to me again," she croaked with emotion.

"Never, I swear to you," he vowed and kissed her again.

She kissed him back.

"I love you Alistair," she whispered as her tears of joy began to fall as she succumbed to him.

"And I love you… **_always_**,"

* * *

It watched as the mortals went by on their steeds, the sphere glowing as it projected the image.

It watched for a while longer as its eyes focused on the woman, darkness and magic swirling around her aura as she rode along the path beside the Calenhad King.

Everything was in motion; it only had to wait just a little longer. All the pieces were coming together.

With a simple thought the sphere died and the image was gone, just as it could summon things into being in the Fade it could also will things away. The swirling mist gathered around it as it felt the demons shudder and shift, wanting to find holes in the veil pierce it and make their way through. The Fade wouldn't hold them for long, it was almost time.

_Patience,_ it whispered to them. _The tide is coming_…


	4. Chapter 4 - Kirkwall Hospitality

**A/N**: Back on schedule, and back to my usual long chapter self. I realised half way through this chapter that content from previous chapters was inconsistent with the time frame (i.e I originally opted for this to be set straight after awakening but with what's in this chapter the time frame wouldn't work) so I have gone back and updated the first few chapters (not too much but enough to fit). thanks for everyone who's liked the story, hope you stay with me, and please read and review! Enjoy Kirkwall Hospitality ;)

* * *

Chapter 4

Kirkwall was an ugly city.

Oh it tried to pull off its best impression of grandeur and respectability, but Elissa could tell when a snake sat coiled up in her path: the way the city proudly showed its chains as a former slave city sickened her, and the only place of redeem was High Town, and even that was said to be treacherous at night. As for the people in the rest of the city, they were forced to sleep in slums and crumbling buildings in Low Town, or worse in the dark cess pool that was Dark Town. The city was unkind to all those who were not rich or didn't have the nerve to survive the hard way.

Elissa wouldn't wish this city on anyone.

And she knew that things here were far worse than what they appeared. In the last three or four years, the city had had to deal with an attack by the Qunari – and if Elissa was truthful she had hoped some would still be here, she wanted to catch up with an old friend – the Viscount's murder, and then a rising power struggle between the Mages of the Circle and the Templar order.

_As if that wasn't true for the rest of the world,_ Elissa thought bitterly.

They had been sailing for Kirkwall for three weeks, and so far they had meant for their arrival to be secret. They didn't want any attention drawn to them. She and Alistair had gotten on their huge war ship called _The Leviathan_, straight after the tourney at South Reach; they'd only brought with them the Royal Honour Guard, the ship's usual crew and soldiers, Amethyne to help Elissa and Teagan to help Alistair manage affairs in the city. Eamon had been a little confused as to why he wasn't going, him being chief advisor to the King and all. But Alistair had made it very clear in private that due to Eamon's recent behaviour, the choice to take Teagan along was the least of his worries.

Elissa was glad they had brought Teagan, he was smart, resourceful, loyal, and he knew exactly what was going on when and where. She liked the man, she'd known she'd liked him from the very first moment she'd met him in Redcliff, and she was actually relieved to have him with them.

As soon as _The Leviathan_ had docked, Elissa and Alistair had parted ways; they both had things to do as quickly as possible: Elissa needed to see to the Low Town and Dark Town to find some of these refugees from the Blight, and she also had to look up on someone around here. Alistair meanwhile wanted to get to the Viscount's keep, he'd already sent word to this supposed "Champion of Kirkwall" to meet him there, and he wanted to get there before the Knight-Commander Meredith discovered he was there.

Elissa wound her way down dark town, Bane faithfully at her heel, sniffing rather disgustedly at the pills of filth on street corners, and growling at anyone who got too close. She petted his head, and he licked her hand before going back on watch. Elissa climbed a set of steps and found herself outside an old and disgusting building with a lantern hanging outside. _This must be the place_, she thought, and pushed open the door.

Anders stood there in his make-shift clinic, exactly as she had been informed; he was inspecting vials of potions from his work station, adding herbs and other assortments into the mixture and watching it turn colour.

"You know," she called out loudly. "For a man who made me destroy his Phylactery just so that he couldn't be found you were very easy to find,"

At the sound of her voice, Anders jumped in the air and spun around to face her, eyes wide open. She saw so many emotions cross his eyes: disbelief, rage, fear, and then shock as recognition dawned on him and a huge grin enveloped his face. With a bark of laughter he strolled up to her and embraced her into a bear hug. Elissa squeezed him back as she laughed, her armour clanking under the pressure. He released her and stared down at her, the grin still plastered onto his face.

"In all my years," he whispered. "I never thought I'd see _the_ Elissa, Commander of the Grey, Queen and Hero of Ferelden in _my_ Clinic in Kirkwall."

"Hello to you too,"

"Please!" he said suddenly. "Sit down, I'll make you some tea,"

She would have declined but he practically manhandled her into a chair before rushing off to get the tea pot. He came back a few moments later with two steaming cups of tea and a pot of boiling water and tea leaves in between them.

"Thank you," she said instead with a smile. She took a sip of the tea: boiling, very strong with hardly any milk, it was almost unbearable – how much like Anders to screw up making a cup of tea. "I see your hospitality skills have not improved,"

"Only the best for special guests," he grinned.

"Then I'd hate to see your "unwelcome" face," she chuckled.

Anders was oddly silent for a moment.

"And what a place you have," Elissa said, indicating the clinic. "Such a difference from Weisshaupt and Amaranthine, truly the piles of shit and despair outside really give it its edge,"

"I know," Anders winced. "But when you're on the run and you don't want to be found by a certain Knight Commander, you take what you can get."

"You wouldn't need to be on the run if you were still part of the Order,"

"Wasn't for me," he shrugged. "I discovered that I hate the Deep Roads, and I wanted to make a difference for Mages and other people, not just worry about the Darkspawn and my eventual death,"

"You're always welcome back you know," Elissa said softly.

"Thank you, but I'm happy where I am," he smiled thinly, and Elissa realised that the young rebellious boy she once knew had grown up, he was now a much colder, hard pressed, almost an angry man, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of loss for him. "Besides," he continued. "Your refugees weren't complaining of it when I healed all of their wounds,"

"Yes and I am very grateful to you for helping them," she reached across and squeezed his fingers. He looked at her, and she could see how weary he was, how tired he was down to his bones. "How are you Anders, truly?"

"Exhausted," he admitted with a sigh. "Fighting for the Mages has been an uphill struggle, and in a place like Kirkwall that struggle is only worse, as you have to fight ogres as well as climb the hill."

"'Fighting for mages'?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Even you must see Elissa," he pleaded. "That the oppression of Mages cannot go on much longer, we are slaves to the Chantry and prisoners of the Templars. We cannot help that we were born with magic, so why should we suffer in isolation and loneliness whilst the rest of the world fears and hates us!"

"Anders," Elissa said softly, like her mother had done when explaining something very delicate to her. "The Circle exists because it offers mages protection from the outside and makes the public feel secure that there is _something_ to protect them from the dangers of magic."

"That's bullshit! The public don't even **_understand_** magic!"

"And what people don't understand they fear and will kill if given the chance because of that fear,"

"Surely though there's a better solution then this!"

"There can be no compromise on this, until people learn and understand, there can be no change. It's not just the Templars you're fighting Anders,"

"Mages need to fight for their freedom," Anders growled, and Elissa noticed his skin turn a slight shade of pale and his brown eyes frost over slightly. "If we were given the chance to fight then the Templars could not treat us this way!"

"And that will lead to war Anders," Elissa frowned. "Would you rather the mages die in their droves just to make a point?"

Anders was silent again.

"I don't mean to upset you Anders," she murmured. "I just wanted to see you,"

Anders slowly exhaled, slumping in his seat and rubbing his face with exhaustion.

"Forgive me," he said softly. "But this has taken over years of my life… its rather a hard habit to get out of,"

"Tell me about it," she chuckled.

"And… I'm guessing you didn't journey all the way to Kirkwall from Ferelden just to see me,"

"No, if I did your ego would be as big as Velanna's,"

"Oh, wasn't she a big ball of joy and humility," Anders muttered sarcastically.

"Oh she was," Elissa said as she stood, carefully placing her tea cup on the table. "Forgive me but I must now go and meet with my dear husband at the Viscounts Keep,"

"Oh the old ball and chain is with you is he?" Anders raised an eyebrow mockingly.

"He's not my –" Elissa blustered; she hated it when people referred to her marriage like that. "Yes, Alistair is with me, I'm going to meet him at the Viscount's keep to meet some 'Champion',"

"The Champion of Kirkwall?"

"That's the one,"

"You'll like her,"

"You know her?"

"Well… You could say on a personal level…" he trailed off.

"Oh dear Anders," it was Elissa's turn to raise her eyebrow mockingly. "She must be very special to have your interest... and not yours to keep if you won't out right admit it. What have you gotten yourself into now?"

"It's complicated…" he murmured.

"I know how that feels," she said softly. "But you're welcome to come to the Viscount's Keep with me, it would be good to have a friendly face there,"

"Thanks but I'd prefer to keep my head then let Meredith have it on a spike or Alistair punch it off when he sees me looking at you,"

"Alistair wouldn't do that!" she scoffed.

"No?" he grinned. "He sent "bodyguards" in Amaranthine to watch you once he heard Nathaniel was starting to be nice to you; and your Mabari keeps giving me these weird glances,"

Elissa looked down to see Bane cocking his head and narrowing his eyes at the Mage with scrutiny.

"Don't mind Bane,"

"Was always more of a cat person myself," Anders muttered.

Bane growled at the very mention of the word.

"How is Sir-pounce-a-lot?" Elissa smiled as she petted Bane soothingly.

"Had to give him up, the Warden Commander after you was not really the same."

"That's too bad, I liked him,"

"So did I,"

"By your leave my host," Elissa curtsied, her armour clanking to accommodate the movement.

"It was an honour Great Queen," Anders bowed so deeply that his forehead nearly touched the floor.

"Show off, where did you learn that, the Circle?" she muttered and laughed when he scowled at her.

They'd parted with long goodbyes, and Elissa was actually sad to see the door to the clinic close behind her, and shutting her away from Anders. He'd been a good friend in Amaranthine, and she'd wondered what had happened to him over the last few years when his letters stopped coming. Apart from Oghren and Nathaniel, he was the only one who wrote to her anymore from her days in Amaranthine. Velanna had never wrote to her and then disappeared in the Deep Roads, Sigrun still resented her for sparing the Architect, and Justice had allowed the body he'd been inhabiting to finally be at peace many years ago.

With a sigh she had to push past the sudden lump in her throat and made her way back up through the city towards High Town, bane trotting along beside her.

When she finally reached the keep, it didn't take long for her to find her honour guard; soon after his coronation, Alistair had commissioned the "Honour Guard" of the Monarchy. It was essentially seven people, all of whom represented each race, faction and fighting style who were all chosen to protect the King and Queen. They consisted of a Human, a Dalish Elf, a City Elf, a Dwarf, a Templar, a Mage and a chosen warrior selected by the King or Queen. There was an honour guard for each of the reigning Monarchs, meaning a total of fourteen deadly warriors. It was both a practical and political move, not only could the Honour guard protect the King and Queen from all forms of attack, but they also displayed the running relationships between the monarchy and the other factions that made up Ferelden. They were quite a sight to behold, and Elissa gave her honour guard no amount of grief as she constantly slipped past their defences to get away from them.

Amethyne was waiting beside the side entrance to the Keep with the Honour Guard around her. She seemed almost anxious as she shifted from foot to foot, wringing her hands as she impatiently watched Elissa ascend the stairs to meet her. Elissa opened her mouth to question –

"Knight-Commander," was all Amethyne said, interrupting her. Elissa nodded, and proceeded inside.

The side entrance allowed her to go through the Keep without making a spectacle through the front door. She followed Amethyne through the corridors to a balcony overlooking the main hall, her Honour Guard silently following behind her at a small distance. She passed the City Guard Barracks and came to a halt at the top of the stairs.

She was safely hidden in the shadows behind a pillar, as she watched a scene unfold below. Alistair was at the foot of the Grand staircase, Teagan beside him, his Honour Guard patiently standing to attention a small distance away. The Knight-Commander Meredith faced him, her face pulled into a scowl, a couple of Templars flanking her.

Elissa noticed a small group head in through the door, making a beeline for the grand stair case, although they stopped to watch as Meredith and Alistair continued their face off, almost completely unaware of their audience.

"Let me guess," Alistair said sarcastically as he folded his arms across his chest. "That's your final answer?"

"Three mages have fled to Ferelden," Meredith said, her strained voice betraying her boiling fury. "And you have intervened to protect them, as if it is your _right_ to do so!"

"Well, technically if they were no longer part of the Circle then that made them free Ferelden citizens as soon as they crossed my border," Alistair said aloud as he stroked his chin in a gesture as if he were deep in thought. Elissa couldn't help but crack a smile. "Which would put them under my jurisdiction – but that's only if you want to get _technical_,"

She practically grinned.

Meredith was not so inclined towards Alistair's humour as she stood there fuming, her eyes boring into him as if she could burn him with her glare.

"What other answer did you expect **_You're Majesty_**?" she said through clenched teeth.

"A "maybe" might have been nice," he muttered.

"I do not deal in "maybes"," Meredith glared. "I deal in **_cold, hard, facts_**. As should you," she paused, as if to regain some of her composure, and couldn't help the sneer that crept across her face. "Perhaps when Ferelden next chooses a King, it will be one who takes his duty to the Maker, seriously,"

Elissa wondered if that was meant to sting – seeing as anyone who looked up Alistair's history would see that he had Templar training – but knowing Alistair it probably only made him sigh in mock exasperation.

Meredith walked out of the Keep, her Templars behind her; the crowd parting for her as if she carried the wrath of the Maker on her back. When she was gone, Alistair turned to look at the small group who had watched.

"Well…" he mused. "That was awkward,"

The group consisted of a young woman – who was evidently their leader, she was rather beautiful with jet black hair and astonishingly blue eyes; a dwarf who had a crossbow of some description on his back and he had no beard Elissa noticed with a start (she mentally noted that Oghren would piss himself when he found out); a woman who looked to be a member of the city guard with red hair and a very brutish face, but there seemed to be a kind of handsome beauty to her eyes that she would just let slip, Elissa thought that if she were to smile, she would be pretty; and an elf who was lean and muscular with a great sword attached to his back, he had silver white hair, and strange marking that peeked out from under his armour; they were the strangest markings Elissa had ever seen, certainly not Dalish as far as she knew, but there was something about them…

The woman stepped forward, offering a pretty smile as she blinked her blue eyes at Alistair. Elissa felt something prickle within her gut.

"Marion Hawke," the woman said, offering a hand to Alistair. "Pleased to meet you, Your Majesty,"

"This is the Champion of Kirkwall," Teagan said with a polite smile.

_So this was who they'd travelled so far to meet,_ Elissa thought.

"Right!" Alistair said, rushing forward to grab Hawke's hand and shake it vigorously. "I'm Alistair, uh, King of Ferelden," Alistair stumbled, a slight blush on his cheeks. "And this is Teagan, my uncle… sort of,"

"I'm actually Teagan," the Bann said with an amused smile, making his handsome features almost sexy. "I'm only "sort of" his uncle,"

Suddenly, the red haired woman of the guard fell to one knee, her head bowed to Alistair.

"Your Majesty," she breathed almost reverently. "May I say, what an honour it is to meet you!"

"Well you could but you'd be the first today," Alistair smiled.

Elissa smiled, shaking her head – her dear Alistair could never take anything seriously.

"This is Aveline, Captain of the City Guard and a friend of mine," Hawke said helpfully.

"I fought at Ostagar," Aveline said, rising to her feet. "What happened there was… a great tragedy,"

And all be damned Elissa believed her when she said that. Such pain in her voice, it was as if it had happened yesterday. Elissa didn't blame her, she still had nightmares from that terrible battle, and she knew Alistair did too.

"Ah, yes… yes it was," Alistair said in a small voice, and she saw the muscles in his jaw twitch with pain. "Thankfully the man responsible has paid for that,"

He couldn't keep the venom out of his voice, years later and his hate for Loghain was still as strong as it was years ago.

"I was hoping we could talk," Alistair sighed. "Would have been better timing **_before_** being emasculated by Meredith, but I'm not picky."

"I'm surprised you even know who I am," Hawke smiled.

"I know you came from Lothering," Alistair said. "A refugee who did well for herself, against all odds. I have to admit, I was hoping your influence in Kirkwall might be of use. Things haven't been going well with Orlais," Alistair winced. "And without a Viscount here there's only the Knight Commander to deal with,"

"You were having an argument about Mages?"

"Yes well, apparently I don't feel the same way about mages as the Chantry does," Alistair said dryly. "So we're in disagreement, that means they get nasty, they're like that,"

"It sounds like the circle is better off in Ferelden,"

"You would think so wouldn't you," Alistair smiled. "Sadly, I don't control the Circle, I can only deal with mages **_outside_** the circle, of which there aren't many."

"Aren't they in **_your_** kingdom? Can't you just kick the Templars out?" Hawke raised an eyebrow.

If Elissa had a sovereign for every time she heard that…

"Ha!" Alistar barked with laughter. "Easier said than done!"

"Perhaps some things are better left alone…" the elf said, his voice deep and gravely, and Elissa saw a muscle twitch in his cheek, disdain creeping into his voice.

"Fenris…" Hawke said softly, turning to see him out of the corner of her eye.

"We'll see what comes of it," Alistair sighed. "Ferelden had a Blight to contend with remember? We're not exactly at our strongest,"

"A lot of your people fled to Kirkwall during the Blight you know," Hawke murmured.

"I know. I wish I could have helped them…" Alistair said heavily, and Elissa felt his pain – she'd seen the refugees today, it had broken her heart to see so many of her countrymen be reduced to this. "The Blight devastated the Kingdom ad afterwards, well… it hasn't exactly been peaceful. They are welcome back of course, as are you," Alistair added, almost hopefully. "But after so many years away, would you still consider it home?"

"Ferelden will always be my home," Hawke said truthfully, a little pride in her voice.

"Then I hope to see you back there someday, we could use someone like you Champion,"

_I second that,_ Elissa thought with a sigh.

"So what is happening with Orlais? Is there to be a War then?" Hawke asked.

"I hope not!" Alistair smiled.

"You're more optimistic than I am," Teagan muttered.

"Empress Céline is doing her best,"

_Oh, I BET she is_, Elissa thought darkly with a scowl, remembering Eamon's supposed "arrangement of the peace".

"Orlais isn't the most stable place right now," Alistair continued.

"What's happening in Orlais?" Hawke asked.

"Oh, the usual," Alistair shrugged. "Attempted assassinations, uprisings, fancy parties with stinky cheeses. Apparently some Orlesians think it would be grand to get their lost province back,"

"Well we won't let them swoop down on us, will we," Teagan grinned.

"That's right, Swooping is bad," Alistair grinned back.

Elissa had to choke down her giggle.

"You know…" Hawke said cautiously. "With your help there could be a Viscount," she gestured almost awkwardly to herself.

"It's not a terrible idea really," the dwarf grinned thoughtfully. "A lot of people would benefit from Hawke running this town,"

"Thank you Varric," Hawke muttered with a strained smile.

"That's asking a lot," Teagan narrowed his eyes at them.

"It's tempting," Alistair thought aloud. "But I'm sorry to say that my support won't mean much without the support of the Templars. But I suppose it doesn't matter. I was hoping to have your help before Meredith got wind of my arrival, but that's done now,"

_So much for being inconspicuous,_ Elissa thought.

"What you can do," Alistair went on. "Is protect Kirkwall. It will take someone like you to keep it from falling apart,"

"Just me standing between the City and disaster huh?" Hawke grinned.

"I've been there, trust me it isn't pretty," Alistair muttered.

_Not in the slightest,_ Elissa sighed.

Alistair looked over at Teagan and the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Well," he sighed dramatically. "I suppose I better get back to the old ball and chain,"

Elissa felt every muscle snap inside her, if she'd been holding a riding crop in her hands it would have snapped. _What did he say?!_

"You know the Queen hates it when you call her that!" Teagan chuckled.

She had heard him right; he'd said the Maker damned words!

"No she doesn't," Alistair grinned with a shrug. "Just because she killed an Archdemon, she doesn't scare me,"

"You keep telling yourself that your Majesty," Teagan smiled.

"He'd better,"

Everyone turned to see Elissa standing at the top of the stairs, her eyes glaring into Alistair who was doing his best to smile sheepishly and appear confident without showing the way he was absolutely pissing in his chainmail.

"Hello love, what a surprise to see you here," he chuckled lightly. Elissa walked down the stairs, slowly, deliberately, her light armour echoing her footsteps ominously with every step she took, until she was only a few feet away from him, and she glared at him.

"A ball and chain am I?" she said between clenched teeth.

"Oh, did I say that?" Alistair was turning beetroot red as he looked about him uncertainly. "I meant that you were the greatest, most beautiful, loveliest wife –"

She held up a hand in his face and he fell silent, slumping and pouting like a scolded puppy.

"The Queen of Ferelden!" Aveline gasped and fell to her knees once again, bowing low.

"Please," Elissa turned her icy glare from Alistair to smile warmly at the group before her. "No such formalities, Elissa Theirin," she held out a hand and Aveline was a little hesitant as she stood and shook it.

"Aveline Vallen Hendyr, Captain of the Kirkwall City guard," she said. "It is an honour to meet you my Queen,"

"I'm the one who is honoured," Elissa smiled. "I have noticed the guards around the city, keeping the peace when otherwise there would be chaos without a Viscount and Meredith and the Circle constantly at each other's throats. You've done a good job,"

"Th-Thank you," Aveline whispered, her eyes wide with surprise, and she bowed her head, trying to hide her blush.

Elissa smiled, placing a comforting hand on the guard's shoulder, before turning to the non-bearded dwarf. _Time to make Oghren proud_, she thought with a smile.

"Varric Tethras," the dwarf grinned, holding out his hand and Elissa shook it firmly.

"Pleased to meet you," she grinned. "I must say I've never seen a dwarf without a beard, I even went all around Orzammar but never saw one, even the women had lovely locks of facial hair,"

Varric threw his head back and laughed, he laughed so hard that he was clutching his belly as tears came to his eyes.

"Oh you've just made my day," he giggled. "Now I get to tell the story about how a Queen commented on my facial hair!"

"Well, I had to say something to distract me from the gorgeous chest hair," she winked. And Varric fell into fits of laughter again, one that Hawke couldn't help but giggle with. Elissa looked over to the young woman. "And you are Marion Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall," Elissa grinned, offering her hand.

"And you are Elissa Cousland, the hero of Ferelden, the ender of Blights, Queen of Ferelden which makes you now Elissa Theirin." Hawke grinned back as she clasped her wrist and the two women had a small moment to admire the strength of the other in a silent respect. "Sadly my titles aren't as extravagant as yours but we must make do with what the Maker gives us,"

"Indeed," Elissa laughed. "It is an honour to meet you Champion, Kirkwall is lucky to have you as a protector,"

"Thanks," she grinned, "I get by,"

"As do I," she glared side long at Alistair as she moved to the final companion.

"Fenris," he said stiffly, not offering his hand or even nodding his head.

"Elissa Theirin," Elissa said softly, something about the elf giving her an uneasy feeling in her stomach. "If you don't mind me asking, where do your clan occupy Fenris?"

Every one of the group stiffened, Hawke in particular looked uneasily between Elissa and Fenris with wide eyes, as if she were about to step in between a baby and an Archdemon.

"What do you mean 'my clan'?" Fenris asked, his tone rigid as his body went stiff, his green eyes hardening with anger.

"I merely refer to the Dalish clan," Elissa said calmly, feeling the waters stir dangerously around her.

"What made you think I was Dalish?" he asked tightly.

"By your Tatoos," she indicated his strange markings. "I once had interactions with a Dalish clan in Ferelden's Brecilian Forest, they had many tatoos in order to define their clan and their gods, but I have never seen tattoos as intricate and beautiful as yours,"

Fenris's eyes practically burned with rage, and Elissa heard Alistair and Teagan shift uncomfortably as they readied themselves as did Hawke and her companions.

"So just because I have strange markings," Fenris growled. "You would rather _assume_ I belong to the Dalish;"

"If I have caused offense then you have my apologies –"

"_Offense?!_ My markings were not for some pathetic attempt to remember a tribal heritage! Is it so far from the protection of your castles and petty politics that you cannot imagine these markings **_forced_** upon me in the most excruciating pain whilst my master laughed?!"

"You were a slave?" she asked, her heart throbbing slightly on the word.

Fenris only glared at her.

Elissa immediately withdrew a dagger from her belt, everyone gasping and reaching for their weapons –

But she merely placed the weapon over her heart and bowed her head to the elf. Fenris's eyes widened as he looked at the Queen before him, the anger suddenly replaced by confusion as he became uncertain of what to do.

"For my ignorance you have my deepest apologies," Elissa said, offering him the dagger.

"I do not want your pity," he muttered.

"You don't," she said, lifting her head to meet his eyes and everyone saw the hard hatred within them. "Ferelden has a zero tolerance for slavery of any kind, as do I. When I discovered Slavery was being done to the elves of Denerim's alienage, I killed every single slaver, and have tried my hardest to return those I didn't save back to their former homes. You do not have my pity Fenris, only my pride: you are a strong man in order to survive the ordeals you must have undergone, and to fight for your freedom as true man of Thedas should. Should you ever decide to come to Ferelden, know that my doors shall always be open to you; no slaver shall touch any citizen of mine whilst I breathe."

Everyone seemed stunned by her words, most of all Fenris, who stood in silent shock for a few moments, before bowing his head.

"I apologise for my rude outburst," he said softly. "It was dishonourable of me to treat a Hero and Queen in such a manner, and you have my respect for how you treat your people; many lesser monarchs would not have cared,"

"I do,"

"I am glad to hear it,"

"Thank you Fenris," she bowed.

"Thank you, Commander," he bowed back.

"I haven't been Commander of the Grey for a while," Elissa's lips tugged upwards in a small smile.

"It was an honour to meet you," Hawke said as she came to stand by Fenris, looking up at him with a small smile, their eyes meeting, the connection between them speaking volumes that no small gesture could.

"And you," Elissa said as Alistair came to stand by her on her right and Teagan on her left, both their Honour Guards assembling behind them. "Now I'm afraid though we must leave, our ship sets sail within the hour,"

"May you sail with fair winds," Varric grinned as he bowed with a flourish.

"How very Orlisian of you Varric," Hawke grinned as he looked horrified.

"Perish the thought!" Elissa gaped in mock terror. "The ruffles and outrageous feathers would completely diminish that wonderful chest hair!"

Varric threw his head back with laughter.

"Fair well Champion," Alistair said as he placed a fist over his chest and bowed his head.

"And to you, your majesties,"

* * *

_He looked out over the docks, seeing the lamb head onto the ship._

_She was well protected._

_But the wolf needed the kill…_

_Perhaps he'd need a little help…_

* * *

The seas rolled back and forth, the ship swaying with the roll of the waves. Elissa watched the dark skies, now black as the dark clouds had rolled over and took away the sunset as _the Leviathan _had left Kirkwall's docks. She sat on the couch by the portholes of her cabins, dressed in a robe and her nightgown. She sighed, listening to the creak of the lantern as boredom began to set in. Amethyne was asleep in her small cabin next door, and all the other crew members were on deck tending to the ship, Alistair with them. She couldn't wait to be home, off of the seas where the only thing to entertain her was official business and Amethyne's classes.

Suddenly she heard the door creak and turned to see Alistair as he walked in, comfortable clothes and a cloak draped over his shoulders. He smiled at her as he walked in, closing the door behind him.

"Hey," he grinned.

"Hey," she smiled. "How long until we're home?" Alistair laughed, the sound reverberating through the air and making her shiver, but not from cold.

"Don't start that already," he chuckled. "You were bad enough on the way here,"

"I can't help it," she sighed as she turned back to the window. "I feel like a caged animal here, it's worse than court. I'm pacing around the cage until I wear a hole in the floor. There's nothing to _do_,"

"I might be able to help with that…"

She almost jumped as she heard his voice a husky whisper right beside her ear, his breath on her neck, and his arms suddenly on either side of her. She trembled when she felt his lips brush gently against her skin as he kissed her neck, brushing aside her hair; he nipped, sucked and nibbled, eliciting a moan from her lips as she arched into his body, pressing her back into his chest, feeling his erection prodding against her.

"Alistair," she moaned hoarsely. "Don't start something you won't finish,"

"I have no intention of doing so," he growled.

"Good," she turned and kissed him, sweeping her tongue across his lips, flicking at the roof of his mouth. She felt him grab her hair as he deepened the kiss, his hunger evident as he pulled her closer against him.

Suddenly they were standing, and she was impatiently pushing off his cloak and pulling at his clothes, even as she felt his hands roughly grab at her gown, she heard a slight tear in the seams as he roughly pulled it over her head, breaking their kiss for just a moment as they threw the clothes away, not caring where they landed.

And then she was pushing him up against the door, running her hands over his defined chest and across his strong shoulders before finally settling to grab his hair and pull him down closer to her. But then she heard the faintest click, and paused for a moment, her old battle instincts kicking in slightly. Alistair grinned above her, and she looked over his shoulder to see that he had his fingers over the key in the door.

"Thought to be on the safe side…" he shrugged.

Elissa grinned back and then pulled him back down towards her, losing herself in the kiss. She was walking with him, only faintly aware of where they were. Alistair stopped suddenly when the back of his knees hit the bed, and without further incentive, she placed her hands against his chest and pushed him back onto the bed.

Taken a little off guard, Alistair fell with an awkward chuckle, splaying out across the bed on his back. Elissa stood above him for a moment, allowing her eyes to roam up and down his body unashamedly, and enjoying the lick of heat she felt when his eyes did the same to her, pausing briefly on her breasts and beady hard nipples. She climbed, leisurely crawling up his body, drawing out every delicious movement as she felt his erection brush against her flesh, although still imprisoned within his pants.

She hovered over his face, noses only inches apart, her eyes locked on his. And then she kissed him, arching above him as she felt his hands caress her body, stroking her back, scratching her shoulders ever so lightly. She moved to his jaw line and then down his neck, nibbling on his earlobe, her hands pulling up his arms above his head as she entwined her fingers in his –

And then with a snap of her fingers she looped the leather bounds around his wrist, shackling him to the bedposts.

Alistair gave a little startled yelp in surprise, looking up at his wrists with wide eyes.

"A ball and chain am I?" she whispered in his ear.

He stiffened and looked up at her, his eyes wide as he wondered what she would do, and she smiled cunningly as she watched him.

"I didn't realise that it was so bad being '_chained_' to this…"

Her hand travelled down and grasped his erection.

Alistair hissed in a breath and bucked a little, trying to make her hands move along his length. She obliged a little, stroking him through the fabric of his pants. Her expression never changing, as she heard him moan, pushing his head into the pillows and lifting his hips so that she might stroke a little more of him. Then with a deft tug, she pulled his pants down past his knees, enjoying the way his manhood sprung out of its prison and stood to attention for her. She was deliciously slow as she slid the pants off of his ankles and threw them away.

She crawled back up his body, rolling her shoulders, her eyes meeting his as he watched her intently. And then, she took him into her mouth.

Alistair tried to choke off a strangled cry, his body stiffening. Elissa smiled as she kissed his manhood, blowing gently upon it, flicking her tongue against the tip as she only ever took a little of him in, enjoying her teasing as he bucked his hips to try and push himself further in. she gently scraped the edge of her teeth against him and felt him suck in a breath. She could feel his climax coming ever so slowly, put off by her teasing but drawn closer by how much he wanted her to do more, the anticipation alone killing him.

When she felt it build up long enough, she straightened and straddled his hips, feeling his slick head just against her entrance. He looked up at her, eyes dark and pleading with her.

"Please…" he whispered hoarsely.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice just as raspy from her own desire that she was struggling to keep in check.

"I… I want _you_. I _need_ to be inside of you," he growled.

And Maker did she want him too, but dammit she had a point to make.

"Me?" she asked, and allowed herself to slide onto him.

He moaned loudly, and Elissa had to bite her lip to stop herself from doing the same as she felt him enter her. He was a perfect fit, and she wanted to take him in up to the hilt and fuck him like crazy; but instead she only allowed him half way in, her restraint almost buckling against the urge for more.

"Yes!" he cried, trying to thrust himself up and into her but she pulled away, always keeping him at the exact same place.

"Are you sure you want me?" she asked him, her head beginning to spin and making the sentences difficult to form. "Not Empress Celine?" when he looked at her in confusion she lifted herself off until only the head of him was in her. His eyes widened in panic as he realised what she was doing.

"No…" he choked.

"What about Miss Hawke?" she threatened a little higher –

"No!" he barked. "I don't want anyone else, just you,"

"That's all you had to say," and then she drove him home.

They both cried out, their relief echoing up to the rafters of the cabin, not caring who heard them. Unable to bare it any longer, Elissa snapped the restraints off his wrists.

With a surge Alistair rose up to meet her, sitting up so that he was eyelevel with her and she sat in his lap, his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, sliding _deeper_ into her and she moaned as he swivelled his hips, causing new waves of pleasure to race through her. They began their rhythm, their thrusts matching to meet half way, all the while the pressure building and building. Elissa folded herself around him, clinging to him as she felt him enter and retract, enter and retract; going so deep he brushed along her inner most core, creating shockwaves of electricity sparking up from her heat. She was drowning in it, she wanted him to stay there, so close, but he kept leaving and returning, making her dizzy, and regretted her teasing if this was the karma she got. He nibbled on her neck, and she felt herself gaining momentum, and the waves gaining all around her. Her legs trembled as she clamped them, her arms squeezing his shoulders as she felt his fingers find her hair as he anticipated what was coming.

And then he bit her. It was enough as suddenly she was pushed over the edge and she came, screaming his name as she turned into a liquid pool. He continued, his thrusts to her suddenly sensitive flesh only adding to her pleasure as her inner walls clamped him. He came only a few thrusts later, and she felt tingling heat bloom from her thighs to her navel as he emptied his seed into her, his cry hoarse as he screamed her name.

They clung to each other, in the darkness of the cabin fractured only by a small lantern; everything was perfect as the world went dark around them.

* * *

_Elissa found herself in a very high place, a bitter cold wind sending chills down her spine. That was all she could tell of her surroundings other than the fact that she was in a high place, perhaps on a cliff? Everything around her was blurry; she couldn't seem to focus properly. _

_"Come…" whispered a voice._

_Elissa looked around, her eyes searching the fog of her vision, trying to find the voice._

_"I'm here…" it said. _

_She wandered, hoping that wherever she was she didn't fall off from whatever high point she was on. _

_"You…" the voice kept fading in and out of focus. "You… Careful… Tide…"_

_Elissa tried to concentrate but her thoughts were scattered. _

_"The Tide…" _

_Elissa stopped as she thought she saw the fog began to clear, opening up her vision –_

_"Wake up!"_

* * *

Elissa's eyes snapped open – to see a dagger an inch in front of her face.

Without thinking, she quickly shoved herself backwards, knocking into Alistair's chest as she did so, startling him into consciousness. Her hand came over in a tight arc, her two fingers jabbing into the wrist of her attacker. She heard a pained squawk, and scooted around in the bed and kicked out, her foot connecting with the assassin's chest and sending him back.

Using the space, she rolled up onto a crouch on the mattress and grabbed the fallen dagger, almost falling over again due to the give and shift of the feather bedding. Alistair sat bolt upright beside her, instantly alert. Elissa tried to look at her attacker as he tried to come towards her –

A bright flashing light blinded her for a moment and Elissa cried out as she felt searing pain scorch her side, knocking her off the bed to tumble with a loud crash to the floor, knocking over the bedside table as she did so.

The world was out of focus, and Elissa tried shaking her head to try and clear her vision.

Alistair roared as he flew across the room, grabbing his sword that lay by his stack of armour close by the bed, and attacking the second assassin. A female mage draped in black, her face covered by a mask, her hair kept in by a black hood. The mage used shielding spells to block Alistair's furious attacks, and light stun spells to try and harm him, but due to Alistair's previous Templar training and his rage he almost shook them off, they only merely made him step back but he kept coming at the mage.

Elissa was forced to focus on her own attacker, a man well-built but slim, covered in the same black as the mage, his face covered except for his eyes: one green eye and one blue. He wielded a second dagger in his left hand. Elissa's eyes shifted to her star-forged blade Starfang, always by her bedside, now just a mere leap away. The assassin came at her, his steps light, hardly making a sound. Usually, Elissa wasn't very good with daggers, it allowed her enemy to get too close without her shield to protect her. But she didn't have the time to improvise.

Her eyes were constantly flittering back to Alistair – who was now crying out in pain as the mage tried to overpower his mind with a mind hex. She had to help him; her gut told her to get to him even as reason tried to tell her he could handle himself, but an ancient instinct made her almost panic as she watched him fight: she wanted to get between him and anything that would harm him!

Suddenly there was a thunderous banging on the door to the cabin, voices outside booming, the door straining as they tried to get in, only held in place by the locks.

Using the temporary distraction, Elissa flipped the blade in her palm and shot it threw the air. The Assassin dodged to the left and the blade whistled past him harmlessly to sink deep into the wood of the wall –

Elissa was forced to look, as she heard Alistair roar as he came at the mage again, his sword swinging wide. The mage, her eyes wide in panic beneath her mask, did one last shield, which shattered under the force of the sword. She ducked under the swing, her hands going into her black robes to retrieve a dagger.

Elissa screamed as she saw the dagger withdrawn.

Alistair shifted his body, his arm coming up to ward off the blow –

The dagger glanced off of the hilt of his sword and buried itself in his shoulder.

Elissa was stunned for a moment, until she saw the droplets of red that began to bloom across his skin. Like a bull reacting to the red, Elissa let out a strangled cry of enraged fury, as she rolled and grabbed Starfang, leaping up and over the bed, sailing through the air.

The mage turned at the sound of the demonic noise, her eyes wide in fear. Her eyes burning with rage and hate, Elissa cut across with her sword, the blade singing and only meeting a little resistance as it cut through blood and flesh, the gore spraying up into Elissa's eyes as she landed neatly over a body…

And the mage's head rolled across the floor.

Turning with burning eyes, Elissa faced her first attacker –

Who had vanished.

She was a little perplexed, even fearful as she looked around for him, but he was gone. She turned to Alistair, who stood almost a little dazed. Her eyes fixed on the dagger in his shoulder with blood trickling from the wound. She began to shiver as she came to him, dropping her sword unceremoniously on the floor, she grasped at the hilt, her shaking only becoming worse as he hissed in pain.

_Damn them!_ She seethed. _And damn me!_ If Alistair had been wearing armour the blow wouldn't have made even a mark – even if he'd been wearing bedclothes it would have offered more protection than his bare flesh! Damn her for the sex, damn her for not being so alert, damn her for not getting to him in time, damn, damn, damn…

She didn't even realise she was crying until she felt Alistair's hand gently wiping away the tears that were flowing down her cheeks. She trembled against him and pulled out the dagger in one yank. He roared in pain, and she hit him with her embrace, squeezing him to her as she buried her face in his chest, shuddering as the tears came. _Dear Maker, I almost lost him…_ she thought with a strangled sob. If the dagger had met its mark he would have had a dagger in the neck or the heart. If it had been just a little more to the right it would have hit an artery. She felt his arms around her, she felt the blood against her flesh, and all she could do was cry. She hadn't felt this helpless since the Blight, but back then they had always been prepared for attack, always lightly armoured even in bed, and they had several other warriors around them to protect them and keep watch. Had she grown soft? Was she not as vigilant as she thought? All she had left to defend the man she loved was an Honour Guard who were down the hall due to their want for "privacy" and her wit. And both had clearly failed tonight.

They were still clung to each other as the door was burst open in an explosion of flame as the full Honour Guard spewed into the room, their weapons at the ready. Elissa was only barely aware of screaming at one of the mages to "fucking heal him!" Both Mages instantly set to work on Alistair, their energies instantly working as flesh began to knit itself together, and the damage was quickly undone.

It never crossed her mind that both she and Alistair were completely naked. It only occurred to her when one of the Guards handed her a robe and Alistair sat on the bed and covered himself with the blankets. She was in shock as she stood there holding a robe about her shoulders, shaking from the adrenaline of battle and the panic at seeing Alistair's blood.

Alistair grabbed at one of the guard, hauling him to within an inch of his enraged face.

"Find that bastard, now!"


	5. Chapter 5 - Canaries

A/N: Hi everyone! sorry that this chapter is a week late, but house guests and work have been a real b****. Hopefully things will be back to normal! as I have said before, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE Read and review, even message me if you like, it would be great for me to know what you think, I'd like to answer any questions you have, and I would like the feedback so that I may improve for you. So, here is Chapter 5, I'm now half way through (unless people want more, will need feedback in order to know that LOL) so here... the plot begins to thicken...

* * *

Chapter 5

The assassin was lost.

Elissa had known he would be, but she still couldn't keep down her anger at not finding him. Alistair was far worse: he'd scoured the entire ship looking for the surviving assassin, interrogating each and every crew member, soldier, even the Honour Guard. It had been presumed that he'd jumped overboard, and was lost to the sea. That did nothing to improve Alistair's mood and he only began to rage all the more for how someone didn't notice the pair get onto the ship, sneak past multiple watches and guards to get into their private cabin – which was through a locked door – without being discovered? It was the ROYAL SHIP!

But the more important question that Elissa wanted to know was how did they know about the ship in the first place? Elissa and Alistair had only told Eamon and a few selected others about the voyage to Kirkwall. So either someone had betrayed them – doubtful but not an impossibility – or, much more worryingly, was that the Assassins had been keeping an eye on them.

Strangely she wanted the first scenario to be true.

They docked in Denerim a few weeks later, and never before had Elissa felt so relieved to be home. The nights aboard the ship had been a constant aggravation to her sanity, for the Honour Guard had insisted of at least two or three sentries _IN_ the room with them, so therefore even sex was off the menu. not that she could sleep easy anymore...

She waited on the docks her horse impatiently flicking its mane and stamping its feet, eager to carry them off. Elissa agreed, she had to wait for an entire procession of guards and for the city watch to return saying that the streets had been cleared for her. _What nonsense_, she thought irritably; she looked off longingly at the shadows, wondering how Zevran could have snuck her off without anyone noticing. The good old days when they had all snuck into Denerim without any of the guard or Loghain any the wiser as to who they were. But now she was the Queen, she had to admit with a sigh, so she had to put up with such annoyances.

"You okay?" she heard Alistair and smiled tiredly out of the corner of her eye at him. He sat beside her on his own horse, his hands fidgeting as he gripped and re-gripped the reins continuously. "Tired?" she asked.

"Exhausted," he muttered. "You?"

"I'm picturing that bed of ours right now…" she smiled wistfully.

"Oh dear," he teased and she could hear the grin in his voice. "Picturing those games of yours?"

"Oh yes…" she purred softly.

"I might play rough," he chuckled.

She looked at him, leaning forward as she allowed her lips to graze his ear.

"I might _let_ you," she whispered hoarsely.

He stiffened, his knuckles going white, his swallow audible in his dry throat.

"I want you to be _rough_…" she whispered.

"I can be…" he said darkly, but his eyes shifted uneasily.

"I want to feel the hot wax dripping on my skin… the chains biting against my wrists…"

"Um…" Alistair gulped. "Yeah, I can do that… I'll make you writhe… and-and scream…"

"And I want _you_ above me…" she placed her hand on his leg and allowed her nails to dig a little into his thigh, making him squeak ever so slightly. "You could even use your riding crop… _yes_," her eyes brightened. "That could be _fun_, leave your mark –"

"Ha! Ha, ha," Alistair interrupted her abruptly as he burst into very awkward and uncomfortable laughter. "Ha-ha… bluff called," he grinned though his eyes were still wide in panic.

Elissa leaned back in her saddle and smiled with triumph.

"Oh my little Templar… still need to do a lot of growing up,"

"I was never an _actual_ Templar," Alistair grumbled. "Only a recruit,"

"Would you rather me call you 'choir boy'?" she raised an eyebrow.

He scowled at her.

"Then how about my Grey Warden in shining armour?" she smiled as she leaned in closer to him. Alistair sighed as he allowed a smile to tug at his lips.

"That I can do…"

There lips brushed –

Elissa froze as she saw a pair of eyes on the docks behind them.

One green eye and one blue…

Elissa would never forget that gaze, and she felt her blood boil as she turned to face her once would-be-assassin. And then it all happened so fast…

Turning with her, Alistair saw the assassin and a wordless roar exploded from him as he unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the man. Every soldier in the vicinity turned and readied their weapons.

Before Elissa could say anything, Alistair and everyone else was charging after the assassin that ran off through the crowded streets. a moment later, they were gone.

"Your Majesty," she heard one of her Honour Guard say but she was too preoccupied to listen. "We need to get you–"

With a yell, Elissa dug her heels into her charger's flanks and suddenly she was racing off down the street, her mind whirling as she tried to calm her frantic heart. The assassin could have a trap set up for Alistair, he could be riding into danger at that very moment. Every nerve in her body screamed in protest as she remembered seeing that dagger buried in his shoulder.

The assassin had been heading North West, just past the city centre, the streets would be filled, slowing down the horses, as Elissa discovered when she saw the end of her street blocked by a crowd of people. She quickly pulled on the reins with all her might, and quickly steered it down another side street. Where would the assassin go in such a large crowd? The crowds were here for…

Of course! Elissa realised. It was the end of the month, the crowds were here in order to go to the Chantry and purge their sins, the assassin could slip among the crowd, lose his pursuers, and then claim sanctuary within the holy temple.

Elissa spurred on her horse, going into a full out gallop, her pale hair streaming behind her as she weaved through the back alleys of the City. Her horse screeched in indignation, sides heaving as it tried to make sense of the sudden rush. It was a tight squeeze in some of the alleys, but Elissa kept going; she knew these streets, she'd been through them a thousand times, she knew the fastest way to the Chantry ahead of the crowds. She rode out of the docks, past the Pearl brothel, around the east and headed for the market district.

She saw the assassin as he sprinted across the market, headed straight for the Chantry; but he seemed… different. His eyes were wide in panic as he pushed and struggled through the crowds, he seemed desperate and afraid, so different from the controlled killer she had seen on the ship.

Her horse screamed as it skidded to a stop, hoofs' creating sparks on the cobbled stone road. Elissa launched herself free, rolling up into a crouch and propelling herself forward. She shoved her way through the crowd, drawing Starfang from its sheath as she did so.

Her prey was nearing the Chantry gates, pushing past people in his attempt to reach safety. He looked over his shoulder, eyes widening as Alistair and the guards rounded the corner on their horses, scanning the crowd for him. He redoubled his efforts, pushing and shoving his way through the crowd like a drowning man in an ocean. He kept going, almost to the gates –

And felt the cold bite of a blade against his neck.

Elissa held Starfang just a hair's width from the man's throat, and he fell instantly still, his eyes closing as he sighed with defeat… something about him seemed almost _sad_. The crowd gasped as they realised what was happening and drew back in a wide circle around the unfolding scene.

"Surrender," Elissa breathed, her sides heaving as her body tried to catch up with the sudden exertion.

The assassin nodded.

* * *

The hood was wrenched back, revealing the face of a man perhaps in his fourth decade, with greasy unkempt brown hair falling to his shoulders, but his face was haggard and sunken with the complexion of a man ten years older. His eyes were dark and his face expressionless as he gazed at the floor of the throne room, on his knees and shackled, surrounded by armed guards, he didn't have the same ruthlessly deadly air that Elissa remembered.

It was the way his eyes looked: so sad and hopeless, it… disturbed her. She expected angry, gloating, even blank emotionless calm. Not this.

"What is your name?" Alistair demanded as he paced in front of the prisoner, his shoes echoing in the Throne Room; Elissa stood a little ways apart from him, watching the prisoner and her husband wearily.

"My name is Rodrigo," the man said with a slight accent.

"Where are you from?"

"My mother was Antivan, but my father was a Ferelden, I was raised in Denerim and have lived here most of my life,"

"You attacked me and my wife on our ship!" Alistair growled.

"That I did," the man Rodrigo said in a small voice.

"And yet you claim to be Ferelden?!" Alistair spat. "We are your King and Queen!"

"Yes Your Majesty," the man murmured.

"That night you were working with a mage, who was your accomplice?"

"A simple Mage that had been evading the Templars of Kirkwall, I hired her skills for more chance of success," Rodrigo said simply.

"Do you have other accomplices?"

"No,"

"And why should I believe you?"

Rodrigo looked up at him.

"You don't, but I have not lied to you, and shall not lie to you," he said quietly.

"Then tell me," Alistair said, bending down so that he was at eye level with the man. "Who hired you to kill us?"

"That is the one thing I cannot tell you," the man whispered, his voice dripping with… despair?

"'Cannot'?"

"No, for I never saw her face and she never saw mine, I wasn't even allowed to know the location of our meeting place. I was merely brought to her –"

"She?"

The man closed his mouth.

Elissa felt her breath hitch as her heart did a little flip. Surely it couldn't be?

"So this mysterious woman ordered you to attack me and –" Alistair continued but was cut off when Rodrigo coughed politely.

"With all due respect Your Majesty, but you were not the target…" and he looked over at Elissa.

"Why were you sent to kill me?" Elissa asked as she walked towards them, cutting off Alistair as he tried to say something.

"I know not the reason my Queen," he said softly.

"You would call us your King and Queen, yet you try to kill us?" she asked, her brows furrowing in confusion.

"I had no choice," he said desperately, looking up at her earnestly.

"How so?"

"My… my…" he looked helplessly from her to Alistair, like a frightened animal trapped in a corner.

Elissa went down on one knee before him, and rested her hand upon his shoulder comfortingly.

"It's alright… you have nothing to fear," and surprisingly she meant it.

"My… M-my daughters, Florence and Silvia, they were taken and their lives would be made forfeit should I fail. But if I had succeeded then I was to meet them and myself and my daughters would have a new and prosperous life." His eyes glistened over with tears at the mention of his daughters, and Elissa felt a pull on her heart with sympathy.

Alistair grumbled and Elissa stood as she tried to think clearly.

"Please!" Rodrigo begged. "I had no choice! My daughters… they were taken to a ship called 'The Nightingale', I was supposed to meet them there! Please, do whatever you want with me, just please save my daughters!"

"It's alright," Elissa said softly. "We will deal with this," she looked at the guards that held his chains. "You two," they snapped to attention. "Take him to Fort Drakon, make sure that no harm comes to him and send –"

"No," Alistair said, his voice cold as he stood there, sword suddenly drawn.

"Alistair…" Elissa said in a low warning, her eyes constantly on Alistair's fingers that kept tightening their grip on the hilt of the sword.

"Rodrigo," Alistair, loudly for everyone to hear. "Do you confess to attempted murder of the King and Queen?"

Rodrigo nodded sadly.

"Then you have committed high treason: you have attempted to murder your Queen and threaten the life of your King,"

"Alistair," Elissa said again, her blood beginning to boil as she tried to stop whatever it was Alistair was thinking – or in this case, she thought, _not _thinking.

"So now I, Alistair Theirin, King of Fereldan, sentence you to die." He intoned emotionlessly.

"Alistair!" Elissa screeched.

But too late. Alistair's sword swung through the air and cut Rodrigo's head straight from his shoulders.

Elissa watched wide eyed, her gut turned to ice as she watched the body fall, blood pooling onto the stone.

"Leave," she heard Alistair command and was only dimly aware of the Throne Room emptying, leaving only them two and the cooling blood of a dead man.

Elissa turned her furious gaze upon Alistair who stood watching her.

"How dare you!" she whispered, baring her teeth in rage.

"How dare I? I think as King I'm within my rights to execute someone," he replied, smiling without humour.

"He was an innocent!" she screeched, pointing her finger accusingly at the body.

"He was a traitor, he tried to kill you!"

"He had no choice!"

"He always had a choice!" Alistair yelled back.

"And what? Kill his own daughters in the process?"

"If they even exist, that could all have been just a story,"

"What reason would he have to lie?!"

"So that we would feel sympathy to spare him,"

"So you can just cut him down in cold blood? Who gave you the right to do that?!" she demanded furiously.

"I did when he tied to kill the woman I love!" Alistair shouted, coming so close that they were nose to nose.

"You can't do that!"

"I just did!" he turned from her to go back up to the throne on the dais. Elissa seethed, growling her frustration as she spun on her heel and began to storm out of the room –

"Where are you going?!" she heard Alistair's voice boom behind her. She turned to glare at him a moment.

"I'm going to the docks to find these two girls," she snapped.

"No you will not," he said darkly.

"Really?"

"Yes, it could be a trap, a lie,"

"And if it isn't?!" she demanded. "Shall I add the blood of innocent children to your hands already?"

"Send some knights to get them, you won't go," he pointed his finger at her as if to emphasis the point.

"I'm sorry?" Elissa scoffed, her brows rising with her outrage. "Are you _forbidding_ me now?"

"I don't want to, but I can't risk it," Alistair said a little softer, but that only made her angrier.

"Can I not handle a few assassins? I must be getting old if I cannot even take down a little coup; a whole horde of Darkspawn and a freaking Archdemon are _nothing_ compared to that!" she was practically shaking with rage as she glared at her husband.

"It's not that you aren't capable –"

"Then am I just stupid?!"

"No –"

"Then what?! Why am I –"

"I won't risk losing you!" Alistair thundered. "I almost lost you once, and that bastard tried to take you from me again," he pointed to the corpse that lay between them. "And if Anora thinks she can take you –"

"You don't know that it's her,"

"Oh come on! We both know it's her, it's obvious, she's been after this for years,"

"But we have no proof,"

"I'll find some," Alistair growled. "I won't let anyone take you from me," if Elissa strained she could just hear a crack in his voice.

"And what?" she asked. "You'll do _this_ to them?" she gestured to the head that lay a few feet from the body. "That's not the way to do this Alistair,"

"I didn't see you showing mercy to the mage who attacked me," he offered.

"That's… th-that's…" Elissa faltered. She remembered the mage, the awful fear, and then the boiling furious rage she'd felt. Her bloodlust had been unquenchable. But somehow it seemed different, though she couldn't find a reason. "That's different! That was defending you, _this_ was done in the name of justice, when we should have found the truth and allowed justice through due cause. This was selfishness, this was –"

"Wasn't it you who told me I needed to stick up for what I wanted?" he challenged.

Elissa closed her mouth with a snap, falling silent. Yes she had done. At his sister's house, she'd told him that the world was out for themselves, and she'd inadvertently hardened him to the world, he'd put himself first and his duty a close second, when something was important to him…

She sighed.

"Alistair, I can take care of myself. There's no need for you to worry," she said softly.

"But that's all I ever do,"

They looked at each other for a long moment, and Elissa saw the pain behind his eyes, bare for her to see. He had lost so many people he loved: his mother had died, Eamon had sold him out, Duncan had died, she could almost see him clinging to whoever was left to him with tightly clawed fists. But wouldn't she? She had lost her whole family, her mother, her father, everyone she had ever known had been ripped from her in one bloody night. Wouldn't she fight for whatever was left of her life? Absolutely, she knew the answer even before she finished the question. She'd already lost too much, she wouldn't lose anymore.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, unable to tear her gaze away, they were in the same boat. But she couldn't justify with herself what he'd done, it just didn't –

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

Elissa spun around, her eyes wide with disbelief at the sound of that voice. In the corner of the room by one of the archways leading to out of the Throne Room, stood an elder woman, thin with grey-silver hair pulled back into a tight pony tail, but she held herself with a regal strength that women her age shouldn't possess. It took a moment, as Elissa blinked in stupid surprise at the guest.

"Oh dear Elissa, do close your mouth, you're catching flies," the older woman said with a smile.

Elissa grinned.

"Wynne!" she exclaimed and ran over to the mage and wrapped her arms around her slender shoulders, embracing her old friend.

"Oh!" Wynne exclaimed as the breath was knocked out of her. "Careful dear, my spirit may be strong but my bones are not!"

"Oh, sorry," Elissa mumbled a little awkwardly and let go of the elder woman. "Oh Maker Wynne, it's good to see you!" Elissa beamed.

"And I you, my friend," Wynne smiled.

"Wynne," Alistair said as he came to stand by Elissa, smiling fondly at the mage. "Welcome back," he extended his hand to her.

"Thank you Alistair," Wynne said, raising an eyebrow as she took the offered hand. "Court life must have done you some good, your manners seemed to have improved,"

"Yes, they tend to rub off when I'm not quietly contemplating running away in order to fulfil my dreams of cheesy wonders…"

"Cheesy wonders?" Elissa gave him a look.

"What?" he said. "You never do it for me, so therefore I have to use my imagination,"

"And there's the Alistair I know," Wynne sighed.

"How in Thedas are you here Wynne? Last time I saw you was in Amaranthine years ago," Elissa said.

"I know, and I'm sorry I haven't written to you in so long," Wynne said with a sad smile. "But I was on my way to Cumberland to visit the College of Enchanters when I heard of your little… "incident" with a couple of Assassins,"

"Yes, that _incident_," Alistair rumbled quietly, and Elissa struggled not to roll her eyes.

"So I thought I'd come and help before I have to get back on the road." Wynne finished.

"Well, it's good to see you anyway," Elissa said, clasping the woman's shoulder as she grinned. "Just like old times,"

"I hope not," Wynne smiled. "I'm not exactly a spring chicken anymore,"

"Or a cat who swallowed a pigeon," Alistair remarked.

"It's _"Canary" _dear," Wynne said.

"But anyway," Elissa said. "You're welcome to stay Wynne – we have a lot of catching up to do," she then smiled. "In fact, I need to go to the docks, would you like to accompany me?"

"What?!" Alistair squawked.

"Certainly!" Wynne beamed. "I still need to pick up some of my things from my ship, so we can hit two birds with one stone,"

"Perfect!" Elissa grinned. "Lets get going then," she smiled to herself as she felt Alistair's eyes glare into the back of her head.

* * *

The fool had failed her.

Anora turned restlessly in bed, fury boiling through her as she tried to get comfortable on the mattress. Oh how she missed the feathered pillows and the soft downy mattress that sunk into her weight, the royal apartments… how she would kill for them now.

Well, she was going to kill for them…

But the idiot she had sent failed her, and now she was back to square one.

For a moment she actually stopped to think of what had happened, and felt all the anger leave her and despair take its place. Was this what she was reduced to? Sending petty thugs, threatening their innocent families as bargaining tools, and then to wait here in the dark, frightened of the thundering of armoured boots as they came to send her away for the executioners block.

The Warden and Alistair would certainly suspect her, but she had been careful with selecting her assassin, he didn't know where he had been taken and no one had told him who he had been talking to, but if he did know who she was then he knew the consequences if he squealed to the King and Queen.

She just had to be safe in the knowledge that he wouldn't tell them so long as he valued the lives of his daughters.

Eventually she managed to push past her fears and restless tossing and turning and collapsed into exhausted sleep.

She didn't expect to see the Fade so clearly.

Usually it was blurry, nothing was ever clear, and she forgot as soon as she woke up. But this, this was crystal clear, as real as if she were awake.

The Fade was full of strange shapes, the landscape twisted and morphed, the ground rising unexpectedly, rock formations creating a forest of stone. The colours were so odd, the sky shifting from grey to purple to green, the ground a barren pale grey or deep brown. The air seemed thick and swirled with the whispers of voices echoing around her.

And through it all, Anora was very much aware of something breathing down her neck.

'_Welcome… to the Fade… Mortal…_' said a deep grating voice, the words were disconnected, as if the speaker was unfamiliar with speech or language.

"Who's there?!" Anora spun around, her eyes wide with fear.

'_Fear not Mortal… I mean you no harm…_' said the voice.

"I find that hard to believe when I cannot see you!" Anora tried to keep her voice steady even as she began to shake.

'_As you wish…_'

There was suddenly a gust of wind and Anora spun around to face a huge colossus of a creature, its skin a sickly grey-purple, its elbows, knees and head decorated with spurs and its many beady eyes stared at her hungrily.

Anora tried to scream, a hand clasping her throat as she tried to push past the lump that strangled all sound from her. She backed away, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

'_You need not be afraid Mortal…_' the demon said as it took a step back from her.

"You are a demon!" Anora managed to choke out. "I shall make no deals with you! You cannot have me!"

'_I do not wish to have you Mortal…_' the demon said as it stood there watching her. '_And will you not consider the deal that I offer?_'

"Never!"

'_Not even when it may get you your hearts greatest wish?_'

Anora froze, unable to turn her gaze away.

"W-what do you mean?" she stammered.

'_Even in the Fade…_' the demon whispered. '_Your cries for help can be heard… I have answered to serve… my Queen…_'

Anora watched, bug eyes as the demon bowed its head to her.

No! this was wrong, she kept telling herself, everything she had ever known told her that this was wrong, forbidden, utterly unthinkable!

But…

"What are you suggesting?" she suddenly heard herself saying.

'_You wish for the Warden King and Queen to be destroyed… for the false Queen to bow to you… and for you to return Ferelden to its former Glory… I can give you all of that,_'

"You can?"

'_Yes… with my help, you could be the greatest Queen Thedas has ever seen… you would usher in a new Golden Age for your people… you would bow to no one…_'

"How?!" she growled.

'_Me and my brethren would kill the Queen and her King… nothing would stand in your way…_'

"But nothing comes without a price," Anora whispered, her sudden joy dimmed as she suddenly remembered where she was… and who she was talking to. "What would you ask of me?"

'_All I ask is that you allow me and my brethren to experience the world… we wish –_'

"No!" Anora said, surprised by the venom in her voice. "You will not possess me, and I am no mage, you cannot force possession on me!"

'_You do not need to be a mage… to perform Blood Magic…_' the demon said, its voice purring a little, as if it were enjoying this.

"Wh-what are you saying?!" Anora stammered her fear returning to her anew.

'_In order for my Brethren to cross over into the Mortal world… all I ask is that you draw a small vile of your own blood… and place it with this Demonic Ichor…_' the demon placed a small object on the floor between them, never once coming a step closer to her. '_The demons of the fade will be attracted to it… and I can allow them to pass through the veil into the Mortal World… they will follow your command… and you will forever be rid of the false Queen…_'

"All you need is a little blood?" she whispered.

'_Blood… even the blood of a non-Mage… has its own Magic…_'

"And I shall not be possessed?"

'_No… the demons will take their true forms as Shades in your world… no mortal shall be taken against their will…_'

"And you will make me Queen?"

'_Yes…_'

Anora carefully stepped towards the demon, her breathing ragged in time with her fluttering heartbeat. She carefully made her way across the floor, and picked up the rough Ichor, feeling its weight in her hand. She looked at the Demon who awaited her response.

"Deal."


	6. Chapter 6 - Condemned

A/N: hi! this chapters a little early and a little shorter, but I hope you like it! things are beginning to fall into place now. Please Read and Review!

* * *

Chapter 6

The girls, Florence and Sylvia, were dead.

Elissa and Wynne had gone to the docks, and found that "The Nightingale" was in fact an inn just at the docks, only one room had been hired, and in that room they had found the girls… their throats slit and the bodies discarded and left there like rubbish.

Elissa had been so utterly still, she'd been frozen, unable to cry or to even scream her rage. All she could see were images of Oren, her little nephew, butchered like an animal at slaughter… she'd begun to shake, and Wynne had managed to help her out of the building; she'd needed fresh air, the air inside didn't let her breathe, she was choking, suffocating.

It wasn't until the cold air hit her that she collapsed, hitting the road as she began to sob, Wynne had held her, clutching her protectively, whispering soothing noises, like her mother had when she'd been young. And then she'd cried all harder.

She'd thought that her family… it had been so many years since their deaths, but the bodies of the two girls just proved to her that the old wounds were as raw as the day they were carved into her memory and branded into her soul. She missed them so much: she'd wanted her father to walk her down the aisle, for her mother to help her through her first child, she wanted to teach Oren how to become a knight, and she wanted her family to meet Alistair and to like him. She wanted them back.

But they were gone, and she was getting none of those things she wished for.

She'd been numb to the world, to everything around her for what seemed like an age.

But then, a light had appeared in the darkness, something for her to focus on, a direction to swim towards the surface. She had a good idea who had killed those girls, but like she said to Alistair, she had no proof.

But she didn't need proof.

She'd then walked through the city, Wynne silently following, seeming to understand without the need to be told. Elissa had pulled her cloak around her, the hood hiding her face in shadow. She walked through the city, unnoticed.

When she reached her destination, she slipped in through the servant's quarters, going past the guards and patrols until she reached the captain. The captain opened his mouth to protest, to shout the alarm, but Elissa discreetly pulled aside her cloak to reveal Starfang in its sheath, the recognisable blade instantly made the Captain fall silent in shock. Using the hesitation, Elissa quickly slipped a small coin purse filled with heavy sovereigns into his hand.

"We were never here," she murmured.

The Captain nodded, and she slipped past him into the tower.

When they reached a huge reinforced door, Elissa turned to Wynne.

"Stay out here," she murmured.

"Are you sure?" Wynne asked, and Elissa was surprised to see the older woman… anxious almost worried. She'd gone against a horde of Darkspawn and not batted an eyelid, but guarding a door?

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"I can feel… magic here," Wynne said nervously.

"Alistair had the best mages he could find reinforce the door with many sealing and protective wards,"

"But… it just feels so… no, you're right, I am sorry, don't mind me," Wynne muttered quickly, though she looked anything but comfortable as she looked around uneasily.

"Look Wynne, I just… I need to talk to her," was all she could say.

"Alright," Wynne murmured.

Elissa turned back to the huge great door, and held her hand just above the latch. She felt the zap of energy as the magical wards shot across her skin. It tasted her, felt her, and finally flashed blue as the wards were released, allowing her entry.

She slipped inside the room.

A figure stood by the window, her back to the door, her golden hair braided and pinned into tight circles at the back of her head.

"I was wondering when you would come," said her silky voice.

Elissa pulled back her hood and glared at the figures back.

"You knew I was coming?"

"My dear Warden Commander," Anora smiled as she turned to face her guest. "Ever since you sent me here it was always a matter of time,"

"Why, Anora," Elissa whispered furiously. "They were innocents, two little girls, why?!"

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about,"

"Don't lie to me!" Elissa roared furiously. "They were two little girls, barely ten years old, and YOU had them killed!"

"Warden," Anora said slowly. "I have no _idea_ what you're talking about."

Elissa glared at her. And then as she saw the plain ignorance on her face, she felt her anger slowly dissipate, and she was only left feeling numb.

"You don't, do you?"

Feeling exhausted and completely drained, Elissa felt herself collapse into the nearest chair, and buried her face in her hands.

"What did I ever do to you Anora?" she whispered. "Whatever did I do to make you hate me so?"

"Do I really have to tell you?" Anora snapped.

Elissa sighed.

"Anora, we _must_ bring this to an end. This feud… it cannot go on,"

"Then give me my crown," she said flatly.

"I can't,"

"Then of course it will continue!" she hissed. "I was the Queen for five years as Caelian's wife; _I_ was the one who ran the Kingdom. And if you had made me your Queen then I could have risen this Kingdom to its full glory!"

"But you couldn't!" Elissa snapped.

"And how would you know?!"

"Because you ran!"

Anora scoffed as she looked at her rival with complete disdain.

"What are you talking about?"

"When I broke you out of Howe's dungeon, we were caught by the guards, and you had the opportunity to save us, to tell them the truth. But instead you ran and fed me to the slaughter. _THAT'S_ how I know you couldn't be a Queen. I was happy to let you be Queen and Alistair and I could have gone away and never bothered you. But in that one moment you ruined any hope you ever had of me letting you be Queen. I knew that when push came to shove, you would have sold out the Kingdom in an attempt to save yourself,"

"That's not true –!"

"You did it then! What's to stop you from doing it again?!"

They stood there, both seething at each other, their fury and hatred bear for the other to see.

"You're wrong," Anora whispered furiously.

"I came here to warn you," Elissa said, standing as she turned to leave. "This stops NOW, Anora. Quit whatever schemes you have, stop this feud exactly where it stands. Because if you don't… then I can't be held responsible for what happens."

"And I offer you the same warning Warden,"

Elissa was left with that last sentence as it spun around her mind as she exited the room and left the tower.

She collapsed into a chair at the table in the Kitchens, and Raina, the head chef at the Castle, saw to it that she was prepared a meal.

She placed a bowl of steaming stew and bread in front of her, and Elissa smiled as buttered bread was placed next to it. Despite the fact that she loved all of the brilliant and unique meals that Raina cooked, even the cook knew that sometimes simpler was better. And at that moment, the ever so simple meal was enough to warm the coals of her heart ever so slightly. It reminded her of the days spent on the road, at camp in the middle of nowhere, everyone complaining over Alistair's cooking, and when Morrigan once suggested, everyone was quick to answer "NO!". nothing against Morrigan, but her knowledge of poisons and hexes was a little… discomforting.

Elissa smiled at the memories, Maker's Breath… she missed them all so much.

"Bad afternoon?"

Elissa didn't turn around as Alistair came in and sat next to her on the stool at the table, she just accepted his presence, relaxing into it with a sigh of satisfaction. She paused in her meal in order to look at him, and smiled through her mouthful of food.

"Crumbs dribbling down your chin is a good look for you," he grinned. Elissa shook her head as she grinned, dunking her bread in the stew again before popping back into her mouth.

Alistair placed his hand on her, their fingers entwining. He gave her a reassuring squeeze. She shuddered as the images of the bodies came back to her, and then of Oren, and it was suddenly harder to swallow. She closed her eyes tight, trying to push back the images. She squeezed him back.

They sat in silence for a while, their hands still entwined, just comforting one another in their silence.

Finally, Alistair cleared his throat and gently squeezed her fingers as he guided her up from her seat. Elissa, her mind suddenly foggy with sleep, leaned into him, allowing him to take her weight as he took her away.

"Come on, you need your rest," he whispered in her ear, and she instinctively leaned in closer to his voice, seeking out the warmth and comfort it gave her.

They had just reached the staircase leading to their apartments when Wynne came striding down the hall.

"Hi Wynne," Elissa called out a little sleepily. "We were just –"

"LOOK OUT!"

The blast of energy that hit them threw them up into the air, Elissa shrieked as she was sent hurtling through the air and Alistair was ripped from her arms. She hit the wall, feeling her body explode with pain as the air was pushed from her lungs. She landed on the floor, utterly dazed, unable to move as she tried to unscramble her brain and force her air back into her lungs.

Then she looked up.

A demon stood before them, a Shade, its body slithering along the floor as it tried to race for her. Elissa wanted to reach for her sword, but it lay some distance away from her. She tried to reach for it, but then the Shade was above her, shrieking its triumph as its long scythe like claws reached for her.

And stopped two centimetres before it reached her.

The demon looked confused, retracting its hand and then forcing it towards her with more force. But once again it reached a point where it could go no further, as if some invisible force was preventing it from doing so. The Shade shrieked with rage and pounded its fists down upon her, Elissa cowered but had nothing to fear as inches before it could hit her, the Shade's blows bounced back as it hit the barrier.

Elissa looked over to see Wynne concentrating intently on the pair, her staff out and glowing.

With a shout of rage, Alistair appeared, Elissa's sword Starfang in his hand as he leapt up onto the Shade's back and plunged the sword into its back. The demon shrieked, clutching at its chest as it sank to the ground, and just before it passed into the void, its face contorted and parted, the folds of skin pulling back just enough for Elissa to see a face…

Anora's.

And then, the demon was gone.

Elissa sat there, completely numb in shock, she felt Alistair coming over to shake her shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and her lips trembling.

"It-it was Anora…" she whispered.

"Yes it was," Wynne murmured darkly.

Elissa and Alistair looked over at the elder woman in confusion.

"That magical aura that I felt in Fort Drakon, at Anora's door? This Shade," she gestured to where the demon had just been. "Had the exact same magical handprint,"

Elissa was so utterly shocked she just looked off into space in silence. Anora had come so lose to killing her… Dear Maker…

"Get the court Mages here," Alistair said gruffly. "Get them to confirm this,"

Anora stood in the centre of the Throne Room, surrounded by armed guards. Alistair and Elissa sat on their thrones, the rest of the court in the stands around them to bear witness to the trial.

"Anora, daughter of Tyrn Loghain Mac Tir, Widow to my Brother King Caelian," Alistair began, anger and hatred beginning to creep into his voice. "You are charged with High Treason against the crown for attempted assassination on your King and Queen and for consorting with Demons. What say you?"

"Where is your proof?" Anora hissed between her teeth.

"What are the findings of the Mages of the court?" Alistair asked.

A hesitant mage stepped forward.

"Various different Mages have examined the scene," the mage began. "And we have each examined the aura of magic left behind, it was certainly blood magic and demon magic at work. However, each caster has a unique handprint to them so that they may be identified through the use of their magic. Each of us all found the trail of this magic… well, it was exactly the same footprint as we found around Anora's quarters,"

"But I am no mage!" Anora snarled.

"Sometimes you do not need to be a mage to consort with demons," the Mage muttered.

"How do you plead?" Alistair asked.

Anora remained silent, and only closed her eyes.

"Forget your pride Anora," Alistair spat. "Just tell us if you are guilty or not!"

Still Anora remained silent.

"Fine! Then it I find that the evidence stacked against you as sufficient to prove you guilty. I, Alistair Theirin, King of Ferelden, here by sentence you to die. Tomorrow on the morn, you shall be taken to the block, where you shall be beheaded for High Treason against your King and Queen. May the Maker show mercy on you, for I certainly won't."

Elissa hung her head in despair. Oh, how had it come to this?


	7. Chapter 7 - Sins of the Past

A/N: hello readers! I am really really really sorry that this is late, but I have a valid reason as... I have a new baby sister! :D my brilliant mum gave birth to a lovely baby girl 11 days ago - which scared the shit out of everyone at home - and ever since I haven't been able to put her down! Think I'm gonna start crying again :')

Anyway, all my love to all you readers, supporters, and fans, love you guys. This chapter is dedicated to little baby Charley x x x

* * *

Chapter 7

Anora stepped up to the block, her underclothes stark white in the early dawn light. A crowd had gathered before the deck, all silent and kept at bay by the soldiers in front of it.

Elissa and Alistair sat behind the deck, on their thrones, able to see everything in front of them. Elissa couldn't stop her heart as it fluttered in her chest, her body feeling almost heavy with exhaustion and despair.

"Why?" she found herself whispering in a hoarse voice. "Why did she have to do this? Why did she make us do this to her?"

"I don't know," Alistair sighed, his head falling heavily. "And I won't lie: I wish it wouldn't have come to this. But knowing that she won't hurt you again after today, I'll sleep soundly because of it."

"I don't know if I can say the same," she whispered.

He didn't say anything, just held her hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers.

Everything became still as the Revered Mother of the Maker came to stand behind Anora, the executioner, draped in black robes that covered him completely so that only his eyes were visible.

"Anora, former Queen of Ferelden, widowed wife to the late King Caelian," said the Revered Mother, her voice ringing out across the courtyard, so that everyone could hear her. "You have been charged and found guilty with treason and attempted murder against your King and Queen, and you have consulted with demons and dabbled in the forbidden Blood Magic. Today, you will be beheaded, and your soul shall be sent back to the Maker. I am here to offer you a last blessing, should you wish to confess and cleanse your soul before you die. Have you anything you wish to confess?"

Anora held her head high, her pride and stubbornness holding true even now.

"I have nothing to hide from the Maker," she said clearly, her voice carrying like the toll of the bell.

"Then it is my duty to send your soul unto the Maker and his beloved eternal bride Andraste." And the Revered Mother took a deep breath before launching into the Chant of Light, the Canticle of Benedictions: "Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just. Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written."

The crowd murmured their prayers for the Maker.

The Revered Mother turned back to Anora.

"Do you have any last words that you wish for the hearts of mortals to know before you ascend to the side of the Maker?" she asked.

Anora turned and looked directly into Elissa's eyes.

"All I have ever done was for the good of Ferelden," she said. "And I know that the Maker and my Father know that I am righteous in my coarse,"

Elissa felt Alistair's hand tighten around hers.

"He was a traitor!" shouted a man from the crowd.

"My Father was no traitor," Anora snarled back. "And Like him, I have done all that I can to secure Ferelden's independence and her greatness." She turned to the Executioner and nodded, and knelt down, placing her head upon the block, her hair swept back to leave the pale flesh of her neck bare.

And then she said something, so low, Elissa had to strain to hear it.

"And Maker willing, he will allow my righteous cause to go on,"

Elissa gasped –

And the axe came swinging down.

* * *

That night, Elissa dreamed once again.

And once again, the Fade was so much clearer than when she usually dreamt.

Again, she felt like she was in a high place, but more from a sense than any actual visual conformation that she was up high. She felt the snow around her, the wind whipping through her hair, could faintly see the rocks sticking out of the snow through the fog that surrounded her.

And once again, she heard that strange voice. Surrounding her, but also distant; shouting but whispering; in her head but echoing in the air around her.

"_Warden_…"

"Hello?" Elissa called out, but her voice felt meek and small, and she held herself as the bitter winds whipped and thrashed against her, carrying her small voice away into nothing.

"_The Tide… is turning…_"

Trying to find the voice, Elissa trudged through the snow, sinking up to her knees, feeling the cold bite into her bones.

"_Sanctuary…_" the voice goaded her on, it felt so close that the vibration of it made her insides quiver and the snow in the air shudder. "_Return… find the safe place… they are coming…_"

"What do you want?!" Elissa shouted to be heard in the storm of voices all around her.

"_Return!_"

* * *

Elissa sprang from her bed, heaving herself to lean over the side of the bed, and was overtaken as her body flushed out her insides. She gagged and spewed a messy vile liquid all over the floor, the scent burned her nostrils and the taste choked her throat. Her eyes saw nothing but blackness as she pushed to rid herself of the bile.

She heard Alistair exclaim something, and then felt him gently pulling back her hair away from her face, his thumbs rubbing the nap of her neck soothingly. The moment Elissa thought that she could breathe, her body tensed and she spewed again.

Alistair called out for Amethyne, who quickly charged into the room with Bane bounding in at her heels. Words were quickly exchanged but Elissa didn't hear them as she struggled to keep the contents of her stomach down.

Amethyne left, and Elissa had been sick another two times before she returned with the royal physician and Wynne in tow.

Alistair said something to them, and before she could protest, Elissa was being manhandled back into the bed. Her body screamed, her stomach threatened to push itself up her throat, but Elissa ground her teeth to try and keep herself still, closing her eyes tight shut against the nausea.

"Come Alistair," she heard Wynne say out of the blackness. "We need to leave the doctor to work,"

"Will she be alright?" Alistair's voice sounded as hoarse as her throat felt.

"She always is," was all Wynne said.

And then they left.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Elissa whispered.

"There is no mistake," the Doctor grumbled as he began to pack all his vials and herbs away into his satchel.

Elissa sat there in her bed, wide eyed as she stared off into empty space, everything in her completely still in shock.

"That's not possible…" she whispered.

"It is," the doctor said softly. He stood back, his white beard trailing down his robes as he looked at her expectantly. "Shall I let his majesty in?"

"Could I have a moment, please…" Elissa said distractedly, the room seemed too crowded even if it was only just them, but she needed space, she needed air, her lungs felt heavy, her brain felt like it was pressing against her skull, unable to even let her think let alone comprehend what she had just learned.

The doctor bowed, and then went out and closed the door behind him, leaving her alone.

The instant that door closed, panic consumed her. Throwing off the blankets, Elissa swung her feet off of the edge of the bed, holding her head in her hands as she panted, trying to take long, slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm her racing heart. Her left knee began to twitch and then shake. She glared at it, trying to force it into submission, but it went on shaking defiantly, as if oblivious to her curses.

Maker, she thought, how had it come to this? How could she be here?

She remembered a time when things were so much simpler, it seemed so long ago it must have been another life to  
her. And it was, sort of. Growing up as the only daughter to the most powerful Tyern in the Kingdom, her family second only to royalty, Elissa had grown up with the expectation of one day marrying into a good family and preserving the lines of the nobles. But despite that she had grown up a defiant and stubborn girl, always giving her mother grief, never even entertaining the idea of becoming what was expected of her: to be a lady and bear dozens of sons. She'd spat on such a thought, she'd wanted to be a warrior. And her father and mother had surprisingly been encouraging, urging her to follow her dreams, to be the right person.

But then, her world had come crashing down in one night.

When a Horde of Dawkspawn had risen up in the south, every noble house in the Kingdom rallied to King Caelian's call, Elissa's older brother Fergus even went to journey south to fight this monstrous enemy. The Lord Arl Rendan Howe, a close friend of her father's had journeyed to her home castle of Highever with his troops. But he was a treacherous bastard, Howe used his soldiers to slaughter all of Elissa's family for false "treason", and that included her mother, father, her brother's wife Orianna and their young son Oren. Elissa bearly managed to escape with her life, when the Grey Warden Commander Duncan rescued her from the slaughter and conscripted her into the order of the Grey Wardens – an organised military force who were the only ones able to stop the Blight and defeat the Darkspawn. Elissa had sworn revenge as she had journeyed south to Ostagar with Duncan to battle the Blight there. The battle went horribly wrong, General Loghain had betrayed the King, leaving half his army to die and the King along with it. Elissa and Alistair, a fellow Grey Warden, only just managed to escape. They'd then set on a journey to rebuild an army to fight the Darkspawn and expose Loghain for the traitor he was. They'd recruited the dwarves of Orzammar, the Dalish Elves, Arl Eamon and even the Mages of the Circle of Magi.

She'd learned a lot from her journey. The Blight, caused by the Darkspawn finding a false Tevinter god – an ancient dragon that had been imprisoned beneath the earth by the Maker himself – tainting the creature and turning it into an Archdemon, which controlled the Darkspawn, turning them into an organised force as they strived to destroy the surface world, their taint infected the world around them, the land became dark and could no longer grow, people either died from the taint or became darkspawn themselves if they survived the initial attack. The Blight almost consumed Ferelden, but Elissa managed to stop them in the City of Denerim, where she'd learned exactly why the Grey Wardens were the only ones who could stop the Blight: they drank Darkspawn blood in order to master the taint, making them immune to it, but the only way to end a blight was to slay the Archdemon. If a normal mortal did it, then the soul of the dragon would seek out the nearest tainted creature, warping it and changing its shape so that it could be born anew, making it immortal. But if a Grey Warden delivered the killing blow, then the soul of the Archdemon would go into the Warden. Because a Darkspawn had no soul, it could be changed, but a Warden already had a soul, and so both would die. Elissa had killed the Archdemon, she had ended the Blight, and she had married Alistair, the bastard son of King Maric, making him King Caelian's half-brother, and she'd ruled beside him.

Of course, she couldn't have done it without her friends, the companions she'd found along her journey: Lelianna, the Orlesian Bard and cloistered sister of the Chantry, as good an archer as she was a sincere friend; Sten, a Qunari, a warrior of honour and brutality, who's trust, although hard to win was priceless when achieved; Ohgren, a cast-less dwarf from the depths of Orzammar, a drunk and temper driven most of the time, but with a heart of gold and an infectious laughter; Zevran, an assassin hired by Loghain to kill Elissa, who turned his allegiance when she offered his life and protection, he was scandalous and lethal – sometimes both in the same context; Wynne, the elder Mage of the Circle, who had been a motherly figure to Elissa along the entire journey; Shale, a golem statue seeking a purpose with a hate for birds and lack of sympathy for "squishy fleshy things"; and Morrigan –

Oh Morrigan, Elissa sighed, rubbing her eyes as her heart lurched. Morrigan had been the daughter of Flemeth, a witch of the wilds, an apostate mage – a forbidden outsider of the circle. She had been cold and cruel, and constantly picking on Alistair, but Elissa had seen through that, had seen the uncertain woman just learning about the real world outside of the wilds. They had become friends, and then as close as sisters they had never had.

And it was because of Morrigan that Elissa survived her battle with Archdemon.

The night before the final battle, Morrigan had come to her chambers and made a proposal: that the witch perform a dark ritual that involved her sleeping with a Grey Warden in order to conceive a tainted child, so that when the Archdemon died, its soul would seek out the unborn child like a beacon and its soul would fuse with it, leaving the baby unharmed, with the soul of an old god. Elissa had been distraught, she'd felt betrayed, she'd loved Morrigan like a sister, she loved Alistair body and soul, but Morrigan wanted her to allow her to sleep with Alistair to conceive a child?! She'd agreed, if it was the only way to save him then yes, she would pay any price. She'd survived the battle and Morrigan had disappeared with her unborn child, just as she'd promised.

But of course, she couldn't hide forever. Elissa had found her two years later, after she'd gotten back from Amaranthine, she'd received a lead as to the where abouts of Morrigan and her infant child, and she'd followed it.

She'd found her, deep in the north, creating a magical portal to another realm through the use of an ancient elven artefact called the "_Eluvian_". Elissa had just managed to catch her in time.

And she'd sold her soul.

* * *

**_Years earlier…_**

Elissa walked up the cavern, her steel boots clamping against the stone. She saw Morrigan, pacing back and forth in front of the magical mirror, the _Eluvian_, her robes still the same tattered rags she remembered. Elissa held up her hand, and her companions stopped and waited as she continued on.

Morrigan noticed and faced her, her golden eyes dark with suspicion as she took a half step back towards the mirror.

"No further, please. One more step and I leave. For good this time…" Morrigan said… her voice, she was no longer cold and cynical, she was… sad.

"Hello to you too Morrigan," Elissa whispered, her own heart saddened to see her fierce friend reduced to this.

"I assume you know what this is?" she asked, gesturing to the huge mirror that pulsed menacingly. "I have gone to great lengths to find and activate this portal. Give me reason and I use it, and you will not be able to follow."

"The Eluvians are portals? To where?" Elissa looked at the mirror again, seeing the shiver of magic that pulsed across the glass.

"To another place, beyond this world and beyond the Fade. But this portal can only be used once more. Achieving even this much was... difficult." She trailed off to look back at the portal uncertainly.

"Then why haven't you left?" Elissa asked quietly.

"I remained to see if it was truly you. I had to know." Morrigan sighed, suddenly looking completely exhausted. She turned to her, the old friends looking at each other with such sadness, such longing that once upon a time they would never had dared to show. "Tell me," Morrigan said quietly. "Why have you come?"

"I came for answers,"

"Answers. We all want answers." Morrigan spat. "We had a deal, I save your life and in return you leave me be. Why should I answer any of your questions now?"

"You owe me the truth,"

"Owe you? It was a fair trade I should think." She trailed off, as if some thought slowly wormed its way into her heart as she looked at the floor. "But we were once close, that should be worth something, perhaps."

"Come on Morrigan," Elissa stressed, stepping forward towards the witch. "You were like a sister to me,"

"So, you chase me all this way to... offer help?" she looked at her defiantly, unbelieving. Elissa sighed, even after all they'd been through, simple emotions still eluded her poor Morrigan. "I will never understand you. And you will never understand me." Morrigan said sadly, as if she knew what her friend was thinking.

"I won't understand unless you help me to,"

"I... would not even know where to begin explaining." Morrigan almost looked frightend as she stared at her friend. "Ask your questions then," she sighed in defeat. "Since you have travelled so far,"

"Tell me where the child is," Elissa asked straight away. The mysterious child, with the soul of an old god, had played on Elissa's mind for months. But more than that, even though it wasn't her child, it was Alistair's and she knew he thought of it.

"He is safe, and beyond your reach. All you need to know is that the child is an innocent. He knows nothing of the destiny that lies before him." Morrigan seemed to almost plead, as if fearing Elissa had dark intentions towards the boy.

"That's not good enough," Elissa took a step closer. Damn it, she thought, she needed to know.

"Then what is your concern?" Morrigan retorted, her eyes suddenly going back to being cat-like and she was the vicious witch again. "That the child will claim Ferelden's throne? I will not share my plan with you. I dare not. If your trust is insufficient, then your anger will have to do."

"I need to know what your plan is!"

"My plan is to leave, and prepare the child for what is to come. Such preparation requires time. And power. I must have both if I am to be successful. More than this, I dare not say. Even to you."

"Why did you betray me Morrigan?" Elissa asked. Morrigan looked at her sharply, taken completely by surprise.

"I did not betray you. I left, as I said I would."

"You used me to get what you wanted! I trusted you!" Elissa hissed, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes.

"I didn't –"

"He was mine!" Elissa shouted vehemently, her anger spiking as she saw recognition dawn on Morrigan's face. "I loved him, and you forced me to _persuade_ him to betray me in the most intimate way! Why Morrigan?! Why would you do that to me?"

"I fought with you!" Morrigan shouted back, her eyes flashing gold and the air pulsed with magic as it reacted to her anger. "I put my life on the line to aid _your_ quest! And then the battle came too soon. I had no choice but to go to you, and I did not want to see you die." She added a little softer. "I asked Alistair once: would it be better to hurt someone I cared for so that I might help them, even if what I had to do was terrible, just to give them a chance. And I did do such a terrible thing; I slept with my friend's lover so that she would live. And here you stand, alive. So do not speak to me of betrayal."

Elissa stood there, stunned into silence, completely unable to do or say anything. She'd expected sarcasm, gloating, perhaps even an apology if she'd been fortunate, but this? Morrigan seemed truly… regretful, almost shamed. It completely left her lost for words.

"I have no more questions…" she breathed.

"Then let me offer you a warning…"

Elissa looked at Morrigan, a shiver running over her body as if someone had just walked over her grave.

"'Tis Flemeth you should beware of, not me. Hunt her, if you hunt anyone." Morrigan muttered darkly.

"Flemeth is dead!" Elissa remembered the witch of the wilds, Morrigan's mother, the strange and powerful mage who had saved Elissa and Alistair from the battle of Ostagar for some secret purpose. Morrigan had then discovered Flemeth's intention to kill Morrigan and steal her body for the purpose to become youthful once more. In order to help a friend, Elissa had gone to kill Flemeth before she could do any more harm. She hadn't been prepared for the horrors she'd seen.

"My mother has tricked her way past death and more. She is no more finished than I am." Morrigan's eyes shifted about the cavern, as if she feared that the spirit of the old witch was watching her even now. "I thought I knew what Flemeth planned. I thought what she craved was immortality. And yet I was wrong. So very wrong." Morrigan whispered almost fearfully as her eyes became wide with horror. "She is no blood mage, no abomination... She is not even truly _human_. The ritual was but a means to an end, a herald for what is to come."

"Why?" Elissa found herself asking. "Morrigan, talk to me," she said to distract her friend from her frightened stupor. "What is going to happen?"

"Change is coming to the world." Morrigan said, her voice distant. "Many fear change and will fight it with every fibre of their being. But sometimes change is what they need most. Sometimes change is what sets them free."

"And is that what you want Morrigan? To be free?"

"What I want…" Morrigan looked at her but stopped and sighed in defeat and exhaustion. "What I want is not important anymore…"

Suddenly Morrigan's head snapped up, as if she had heard something. She looked around, as if searching out a voice.

"I cannot tarry longer. The time has come for me to go," she murmured.

"Morrigan wait!" Elissa shouted, reaching out and grasping her friend's arm. "You don't have to do this alone…"

"I wish I were not so… but I do." She whispered, and Elissa could hear the tears in her voice as she looked away, trying to hold onto her dignity. "There is one last thing I must tell you - if you will allow me. I left you a gift. The Dalish book is there... and something you will find of great interest.

Elissa looked over to where her friend pointed, and nodded. The moment of truth had arrived.

"Now… will you let me go?"

"Wait," Elissa found herself saying. "I… I-I want to make one more deal,"

"I think we have both had enough of bargains," Morrigan growled as she ripped her arm free. "Don't you?"

"Please! Morrigan if our friendship meant anything to you… please hear me out."

Morrigan sighed and shook her head slowly.

"What do you want?"

"You conceived Alistair's child… you… y-you have him with you, you have a piece of him I cannot –"

"You cannot have my son!"

"No," Elissa said quickly. "I don't. As long as you are good to him and you say that he is safe, then I trust you. No, what I want… is what you did."

Morrigan raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Alistair said that it was extremely difficult for a Grey Warden to have a child on _their own._ for two of them..."

"Yes, the taint in you makes it almost impossible,"

"But you conceived, after just one night with him." Elissa said, not daring herself to hope that this dark wish was even being considered. "I want his child Morrigan. I want to be a mother, as you are,"

"You do not know what you ask…"

"I'm not asking for a miracle. Just improve my chances, with whatever magic you can. Do this for me, and I let you go."

They stared at each other.

"Very well," Morrigan murmured.

Placing a hand to Elissa's belly, Morrigan whispered a few words, and suddenly Elissa felt a dull vibration echo through her body, making her insides quiver and her ears thrum with the pulse both inside her and in the air around her.

"I have removed the taint from your womb," Morrigan sighed heavily as she withdrew. "It is still present in you, but it shall not affect you being able to conceive. The rest is up to you, Alistair is still tainted, and it will still be extremely difficult to have his child."

"Thank you," Elissa whispered.

"You do not know if what I have done is true or not, I could have just worked a pulse spell and you would not know the difference." Morrigan looked at her suspiciously.

"I trust you," Elissa smiled.

Morrigan seemed to falter at that.

"Say goodbye this time,"

"Goodbye my friend," Morrigan murmured, as she turned towards the Eluvian. "I am sorry…"

"Morrigan,"

The witch turned one last time to look at her friend.

"I'll always be here," Elissa said.

Morrigan looked mournfully over her shoulder as she began to walk away.

"**_Always..._**" she whispered reverently, and then she disappeared into the portal.

* * *

_**Present day**__._

So it had all come true.

The deal was done.

Elissa was pregnant.

And there she sat, shaking with fear.

She had never dreamed that this deepest wish could actually come true. In truth, she had never thought about having children before. All growing up in Castle Highever, she had never wanted to settle down and be the lord's wife. She'd wanted to be the fierce battle maiden, making her mark upon the world. When she'd become a Grey Warden, all thoughts of ever having a family were forced out of her mind for good; the Grey Warden's never died of old age, either the Darkspawn or the taint in their blood killed them after thirty years of joining. Then she'd had to deal with the Blight, wondering if she would live past the next day.

But then, she'd met Alistair. He'd changed everything about her; he saw her the way no one else did, made her feel things she'd never imagined. Yes that sounded clichéd as hell, but it was true. After she'd married him, and knowing that he had a child out there somewhere… it played on her mind. It was something she couldn't get out of her head, that he had something that she couldn't give him. After her coronation, after their wedding, she'd felt the emptiness inside her, one that could never be filled, and it had made her feel weak and helpless. After a few months, she couldn't stand it. That was when she went to Amaranthine, to rid the Darkspawn threat there, to help take her mind off of that emptiness. It was then that she'd realised that she'd needed Alistair, not a battlefield. When she'd returned they sorted through their problems. It had been hard but they had managed.

And just when she'd thought she'd moved on, Morrigan had to jump right back into her fucking life.

She'd made that last deal with Morrigan out of desperation, a way to appease her inner demons, so that a small part of her still had hope. And with each failed cycle that hope had slowly died. Her conscious had been sated that she'd done everything in her power. But now, her mistakes were back to haunt her.

It must have been hours though it felt like seconds. Wynne knocked on the door, and poked her head into the room.

"Dear? Is everything alright?" she asked softly.

"Yeah…" Elissa said shakily, looking up at the elderly mage with wide and terrified eyes. She cleared her throat nervously. "Send him in."

* * *

**A/N: sorry for the long explanation in this chapter about everything that we already know. but I had a message from one reader who didn't know the source material, and so I just put that in there for any of those who are unclear. other readers can skip it if they wish but I thought it would just be helpful. **


	8. Chapter 8 - Confessions

A/N: hi everyone! sorry this chapter is late (AGAIN), but have been really busy lately, and I'm hoping to get back on track soon! hope you enjoy the chapter, please message or review, would love to hear from you!

* * *

Chapter 8

Alistair sat on the edge of the bed, the dawn creeping in through the windows. He stared out into space, his face blank, void of all emotion. Elissa sat next to him on the bed, not even a brush of skin between them, she sat huddled in on herself, her pale blonde hair sweeping to hide her face from him, no part touched each other, a thousand miles could have been between them with the space the bed seemed to create.

"So," he exhaled slowly, his eyes blank as he tried to comprehend what he had just heard. "You made a deal with Morrigan…"

She nodded her head sorrowfully.

"And through her dark magic, we're now going to have a child of our own…"

Her shoulders shook a little as she heard him almost spit the words "dark magic" into the air.

"You're… pregnant…" he said softly, almost wistfully.

"Alistair," Elissa whispered, her hair hiding the tears that threatened to overflow her face. She couldn't stand the hatred she imagined in him, the betrayal he felt. She'd done this before, asked him to partake in a dark ritual and now she had done the same. "I'm so sorry, I never meant for this… I just… I can't even explain." She tried to control her shaking body, Maker did she try, but the sobs continued to rise in her, threatening to overtake her completely.

Maker, she had been so happy at first, a miracle had happened to her. She was about to get the family she'd wanted for so long. But then, she'd seen Alistair's face: how he'd grown blank and expressionless as he tried to take it all in, he was as still as a statue before her. That had been all the reaction she'd needed. She'd been crushed, guilty beyond anything she could have ever experienced. She'd wanted to sing for joy, but thinking that Alistair might not want this baby, because she'd brokered a deal with the devil, he would never renounce it, but she cowered at the thought of his hateful gaze, how he would be so disappointed with her, how he may not even love the child. Maker… she couldn't live with herself if she subjected her own child to that.

"I understand if you don't want this," she forced herself to say. "I've… I can't imagine what you think. Of me, of the baby, of –"

Suddenly, before she could do anything she felt his vice like grip on her shoulders as he spun her around forcing her to face him. She only managed to get a blurred impression of him, her hair flying around her face. And then she felt a crushing force as he kissed her. She froze, her body going stiff and her eyes wide as her brain struggled to comprehend what was going on. She still hadn't figured it out when he released her, utterly breathless, grinning as he held her face in his hands just a few inches from his own.

"A-Alistair…" was all she could choke out. "W-What…"

"That was my way of saying "Holy Andraste's flaming sword up my arse!" I can't believe it…" he continued to grin.

She was dreaming, she had to be. She shook her head, her hands finding his collar as she pulled him to try and support herself on him. This couldn't be real. Her battle grey eyes tried to search his but she couldn't see past the tears that threatened.

"You're not angry?" she dared to hope.

"What?!" he exclaimed, almost as taken aback as she was. "Angry? Elissa, You're pregnant with my child! Honestly, I'm over the moon, past the sun and kicking the Maker's arse in the Fade myself!"

"B-but… but I thought that –"

"What? That I'd be upset? Because Morrigan was involved? The only thing I'm angry at is the fact that I now owe that bitch for giving me this."

"You're happy? Truly?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course I am you blighted fool! Against the impossibility, you are pregnant with my child… Holy shitting Andraste… I'm going to be a father… I'm going to be a father. I'M GOING TO BE A FATHER!" he shouted.

Without warning he leapt into the air and was dancing around the room, his face beaming with joy. He suddenly swooped down and grabbed Elissa around her waist and lifted her into the air, holding her up as he spun around, unable to stop laughing as he went. Elissa was so completely taken off guard she was shell shocked and unable to move, only aware of Alistair putting her down and kissing her.

And she kissed him back, a ray of hope dawning in her chest.

She was going to have a family…

"We're going to have a family…" she murmured to him.

Alistair was completely lost for words, he simply nodded to her, his own eyes brimming with tears as he kissed her again.

* * *

A few days later, they made the announcement.

The entire court was utterly gobsmacked into silence, they were silent for a long moment, before someone started to clap and then a thunderous applause deafened them all. News quickly spread, and the whole Kingdom rejoiced, even Arl Eamon was overjoyed by the news.

It was a week later that Elissa got the letters. The swiftest birds had arrived within hours of each other, all of them carrying congratulations notes and other things from all the important powers of the world. It seemed that even the remote corners of the Thedas even had their hands in other's pockets.

Amethyne went through most of the letters and gave Elissa the ones she deemed were the most important.

Elissa sat in the great dining room, eating her breakfast, looking over the pile of envelopes assembled by her eggs and bacon. She decided to just crack on with it and opened the first one.

"_Your Grace,_

_Orlais has heard of your wonderful news and the Empress Celene the first offers you her great congratulations. Her majesty would also wish to invite you to her summer palace where she hopes to finally meet both of your Majesties, preferably before your new arrival. _

_Her Excellency gives you her best wishes and hopes to hear from you soon_

_Celene 1__st__ of the Empire of Orlais"_

Elissa snorted and threw the letter further down the table. I bet she does, she thought irritably. That was an eggshell waiting to be stepped on.

She opened the next letter, a grin spread across her face.

"_To my dearest Elissa,_

_Such wonderful news has reached my ears! You are with child, and you didn't tell me first?! I am very hurt but not as much as I am excited! It seems that your little Templar is VERY good at his little games, yes? _

_I am currently in Orlais but I am on my way to you – you have no idea how excited I am about this! I want to be there for you, we can go shopping for your maternity gowns, I can sing for your baby – I'll even compose a ballad for you! _

_As is proper, I must give you a gift in order to celebrate such wonderful news, the only thing I found difficult was to think of a gift for both a boy AND a girl. So, enclosed you will find your baby's first pair of shoes! How marvellous! That is for if it is a girl, if it's a boy however… well… you'll have a girl I just know it!_

_The Maker has certainly blessed you my friend. _

_May he forever keep you and turn his eye onto you and protect you during the months ahead._

_Lelianna"_

And sure enough, Elissa found a tiny pair of pink shoes, no bigger than the palm of her hand. They were covered in floral patterns and frilly lace; Elissa grimaced. How very… _Orlesian_.

She opened the next letter.

"_Human._

_It has come to my understanding that you have become with child. Finally, you are coming to terms with what it is to be a woman. You've now had your fun at pretending to be a man, it is time for you to listen to reason._

_As the new Arishok of my people, it is my duty and honour to provide you with what your child shall need. You are the only human I have met who is worthy of respect from the Qunari people. And I owe you a personal debt. _

_Should you birth a strong son I request that you send him to me, so that we may give him a fine blade and teach him what it means to be an honourable warrior. If you should birth a female, then I shall send someone to you who shall teach her the finer points of womanly life._

_Panahedan_

_Sten Arishok"_

Elissa shook her head, unable to control her giggling. She moved on to the next letter, relatively short in length but no less amusing.

"_I hear that IT is reproducing._

_So, IT has decided to sprout more soft, fleshy things that is even easier to crush then IT itself. And on top of that these little fleshy things have bad aromas and defecates more than the wretched birds – ghastly awful things that they are!_

_So IT plans to be a mother. Good luck with that._

_Shale"_

The next letter realy made her smile.

"_To my wonderful sister,_

_You are with child?! If Mother and Father could see you now they'd be rolling in their graves you've changed so much! _

_I plan to visit soon, hopefully in time to see my new niece or nephew, and I'll show him/her how to be a real warrior! No offence sister, but you know you got your fighting finesse from me._

_I'll send a longer letter soon, but right now I need to go. _

_I'll speak to you soon, I love you._

_Mother and Father would be proud of you. I know I am._

_Your brother, Fergus."_

Elissa held onto the parchment a little longer, just staring at the letters engraved onto the paper. She imagined her brother, hunched over it, quill in hand, rushing in order to get out what was in his mind, his fingers and mouth running away from his brain. Maker, she missed him.

She gently and carefully put the letter aside as she reached for another.

'_Deer Elizzar,_

_Just wanted to right to tell ya –_

_SODDING PINCHERSNYPES! I'm no good at this righten crap! I hoped to show ya that I can right a good lettar now, but – ANDRASTE'S FLAMMIN' ASS CHEEKS THIS KWILL IS USELESS!_

_Anyways, just wanted to say that I herd how the pike twerler got ya up the duff! Well spank my ass and call me sally! I never noo ya had it in ya! _

_Be sure to send the kid my way for his ferst REEL DRINK!_

_If it's a gerl I'll be shur to brak the nose of every lad who looks at her funny – I look out for me own!_

_Be shur to invit me to the party!_

_Oghren."_

Elissa was in hysterics as she put the letter down. Oh Maker, Oghren would never change. But the next one made her pause.

"_Our bargain is complete._

_You have my congratulation, for what it is worth._

_M"_

Elissa sadly place the letter under the others, unwilling to look. She rifled through the remaining letters, trying to find others. Why couldn't she find…

"Looking for mine?"

Elissa snatched up her knife and spun in her seat, pushing off from the table and sending her chair crashing into her attacker with a loud "Oaf!". The assailant fell with Elissa pinning him to the floor with the chair on his chest and her knife at his throat –

She froze.

Zevran lay wide eyed beneath her.

"Please! My dear friend I did not mean to startle you!" Zevran squeaked with that velvety voice and thick accent that sent most women trembling at the knees. It had almost worked on her at one time, and Zevran made sure she knew.

"Zevran?" she quickly rolled off of him and pulled him up as he heaved the chair off of his chest. He drew in a ragged breath, trying to regain function to his winded lungs.

"Even blossoming in the early days of motherhood you are still just as beautiful and deadly my friend," the elf wheezed between deep breaths and chuckles. He flicked his long blonde hair over his shoulder, smiling that scandalous smile and revealing his serpentine tattoo that streaked one side of his face. "Though, if it is any consolation, you have awoken quite a respectful fear in me for bread knives,"

Elissa laughed and placed her knife down on the table, before sweeping her thin elven friend into her arms for a great bear hug. Even with his dark armour and cloak she could still feel his bones creak – never hurt to remind him that she still had it.

"Zevran! I thought you were in Antiva giving the Crows a pain in the arse. What are you doing here?" she released him as she grinned into his pointed little face.

"That's a rather _scandalous_ pun for you Elissa?" the Elf quirked an eyebrow at her as he grinned. Elissa shrugged.

"I need the release every now and then,"

"Alistair not performing his martial duties to the best of his abilities?" his grin got wider, sharper. "I could relieve him if…"

"Do you want me to get the bread knife again?"

"I humbly withdraw my offer," he bowed his head, but she saw his grin turn warm. Such was the way of their banter, as it had always been, and Elissa hadn't even realised that she'd missed it. "Anyways, I thought it would be obvious why I am here: to give the loveliest Queen in Thedas her first baby present,"

"Does that kind of flattery ever get you anywhere?"

"On the contrary, it gets me into the best jobs… and the best beds," he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Lelianna already beat you to it, she got me shoes,"

"Bitch, I knew she'd send it in advanced,"

"In advanced?" Elissa spluttered in surprise.

"Yes, we had a bet on your wedding day. I suspect she gave it to courier to give to you when they heard it in the news. Cheater."

"Uh-huh," Elissa shook her head, unable to control her smile. "So what did you get me?"

"A valued gift, from the greatest parts of Antiva," and with a flourish Zevran produced a pouch and gave it to her with gentle fingers. Elissa raised an eyebrow suspiciously when she saw the contents.

"Antivan gold?"

"The whores of Antiva City only expect the best," he said proudly.

"Zevran!"

"What?"

"I'm not sending my son or daughter to the nest of the Antivan Crows, thank you very much!"

"Oh, so it is the _crows_ that put you off, not the whores?"

They looked at each other, and then burst out laughing.

"Having fun without me?"

They both turned to see Alistair striding into the room, a wide grin plastered on his face – a grin that hadn't faded one inch since she'd told him about the baby. Elissa was beginning to think he was bewitched.

"Alistair!" Zevran hailed, and the two men gripped each other's forearms as they pulled each other into a fierce embrace. "It is good to see you not dead my friend,"

"I should think so," Alistair laughed. "And I'm glad to see your still… um… assassaning?"

"_'Assassining'_?" Elissa smiled up at him as he slid an arm around her waist.

"Well it was either that or… uh…"

"Whoring," Zevran offered.

"Not my choice of words precisely," Alistair muttered. "You here for long Zevran?"

"I just came to offer my congratulations to the both of you, I hear you are both very pleased,"

"And more," Alistair murmured as he looked down at Elissa, and they both shared something in that one look.

"So, do we know what we're expecting?" Zevran asked excitedly.

"Excuse me?" Elissa blinked.

"Don't tell me Wynne hasn't at least tried _some_ sort of spell to see what the sex of the babe shall be?"

"I don't think that kind of spell exists…" Alistair murmured.

"No. They don't," Wynne said dryly as she came striding into the room with Bane at her heels and a small bundle in her hands. She nodded to Zevran as she cam to stand by Elissa. "Zevran," she nodded respectfully to him. "How nice to see you,"

"And you, my favourite possessed Mage," Zevran grinned.

Without any further ado, Wynne thrust the bundle into Elissa's hands with a disdained muttered "Here dear,"

Elissa looked down at the bundle. It looked like a tiny knitted jumper, it was an odd creamy colour and rather rough in texture. but when she turned it over, Elissa stared open mouthed at the little knitted bunny on the front. She gaped at Wynne.

"I hope you appreciate my efforts," Wynne clipped icily. "Making that Blighted _thing_ actually hurt my soul!"

Elissa was unable to contain herself as she threw her head back and laughed, she laughed so hard she couldn't stop and herself, her ribs ached and tears were streaming down her face.

"Careful dear, you can't strain yourself," Wynne muttered although she couldn't help the side of her lips jerk into a smile, which turned into a grin. After a moment, she cleared her throat and tried to look seriously at Zevran. "So what's this I hear about you making up foolish spells?"

"You're not telling me that there are NO spells to help determine if we are having a prince or princess?" Zevran looked crushed.

"No, there isn't," Wynne shook her head in exasperation.

"And even if there was," Elissa smiled back at Alistair, sharing that look again. "We want it to be a surprise,"

"I could check for you," Zevran murmured.

"What?" both Elissa and Alistair asked together.

"There is this old Antivan… _Massage_, that helps to relax the muscles so that one can see what the gender may be. It works 50% of the time,"

"50%?" Elissa asked sceptically.

"No way," Alistair snapped with a fierce shake of his head.

"What? Why not?" Zevran pouted at him.

"One: I know all about you _massages_. Two: that's my wife. Three: that's my PREGANANT wife. Four… that's my wife!"

"Kill joy," Zevran muttered as he crossed his arms with a pout.

Elissa laughed as she squeezed closer into her husband's embrace.

"Um, Elissa," Wynne said, suddenly looking a little pink in the cheeks. "You asked for me for something?" she suggested.

"Oh! Yes!" Elissa jumped, suddenly realising. She looked back at Alistair, a nervous smile on her lips. "I want Wynne to... do a few checks. I'll be back later."

"Alright," Alistair murmured. He knew something was up, he could tell be the way she constantly shifted from foot to foot, the way she tried to placate him with that gorgeous smile. But he let it slide... for now. He kissed her, his lips lingering a little longer then they should as they parted. "Be safe. I love you."

"Always," she murmured into his mouth.

He and Zevran watched Wynne leave, Elissa right beside her, a hand on Bane's head.

When the doors closed behind them, Alistair turned to Zevran, and suddenly both men were very serious as they looked at each other.

"The mission was a success," Zevran murmured, so low only Alistair could hear.

"You're sure?!" Alistair demanded as softly as he could.

"Positive." the elf murmured, coming closer as his voice grew darker, quieter.

"Where is he?"

"That I'm afraid, I don't know," Zevran bowed his head, as if with shame.

"What!? The point of the Maker Damned mission was for you to find -"

"_I_ may not have found him... but I found _someone _who has," Zevran's eyes sparkled.

"Who." Alistair demanded on a husky breath.

"A man in Antiva City. His name is _Claudio Valisti_."

"Maker..." Alistair breathed. This was it... he was one step closer to... he could barely even think it. He was one step closer to finally being free.

"When do you want the arrangement? I can put you in touch with him whenever you like."

Alistair looked out over towards the doors where Elissa had just been, his heart giving a twist, jump and a leap at the thought of her standing there... with his baby.

"Not until after the Baby's born. I don't want to make my move too early if this turns out to be a wild goose-chase." he stated, still looking longingly at the door.

"As you wish," Zevran bowed his head again, but then looked back at Alistair with something dark in his eyes. "And you're sure this is what is best for her?" he asked, his eyes glancing towards the door as well. Alistair looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"If this goes right," he murmured. "I'll be able to protect her properly. I can be there for her, I can make sure that nothing like what happened with Eamon ever happens again. Or the assassin. We'll both be free."

"You just need Marric first," Zevran murmured.

"If only it were that simple," Alistair muttered.

"I hope you're right," Zevran looked at Alistair, a King and his friend, with cold eyes. "Because if you hurt her with this, or if anything happens to her... then I will personally slit your throat in your sleep."

"It won't," Alistair growled.

* * *

**A/N: hey ya'll! Updated this Chapter this week instead of posting new chapter, as I realised I missed some stuff that was supposed to go in here. I hope you like my little intro into the DA comics "The Silent Grove", this was just so that I could get my own head cannon straightened out. Thanks for reading! love ya'll loads! x x**


	9. Chapter 9 - All Becoming Clear

A/N: hey, its all coming together! one more chapter after this :'( its so sad! hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 9

"Still not sleeping well?" Wynne aske, a small knowing smile on her lips – although it was undermined by the concern in her eyes. Elissa knew that look: trying to put on a brave face as if nothing was wrong, when really it was anything but.

That _really_ made her feel at ease. Not.

"When I do fall asleep, it's fitfully. The dreams are constant and they are never clear," she huffed.

"You remember them?" Wynne asked, surprised.

"Just like when I had nightmares from the Blight," Elissa nodded.

"And it's a constant blur…"

"Can never make any sense of it. It's just one big confusion, I'm blundering around on a high place – that's all I ever know." She left out the part about the voice calling to her, but she knew Wynne. She wouldn't get the help she needed to figure this out if Wynne was too stubborn to help for fear of demons in the Fade.

"Well, I can help make the dream clearer," Wynne said cautiously, producing a small amulet from her robes. "It's just a little charm meant to help young mages with their visions when they first come into their powers."

Elissa took the charm and put it around her neck instantly, feeling its cool touch against her skin.

"Thank you Wynne," she smiled.

"I'm glad to help," the older woman smiled.

"And thank you for sticking around and doing all of this for us – I know you've stayed longer then you intended, with you big trip to Cumberland."

"I'm going tomorrow, I'll finally be out of your hair by then,"

"Thank the Maker," Elissa chuckled as Wynne raised an eyebrow before she exited the room.

* * *

In the Fade, Elissa was back on the Mountain top.

She could feel the bitter winds whip against her skin, the cold bite of the snow against her feet and legs. Rocks and snow surrounded her, and out into the distance, she could see Thedas spread out below her with the clouds beneath her.

The high place she'd felt was a mountain top, the cold the snow, the fog merely the clouds surrounding her.

She looked about the mountain, seeing a rather curious rock formation against the mountain side about two hundred yards behind her. She searched for the figure that had been calling to her before, her ears straining for the voice.

"Hello?!" she called out, hearing her voice echo around the mountain.

"_Come,_" she heard a whisper and a shout, a roar and a purr, a hurricane and a breeze. The voice swirled around her, by her ear and in her head, making it impossible to see where the voice was coming from.

"Where are you? What do you want?" she called out, preparing herself encase she found a demon lurking around the rocks.

"_You must come… return… return to the sanctuary…_" the voice whispered to her.

Elissa looked about, feeling the winds suddenly change and shift around her. But she could see no speaker, no soul living or otherwise.

"Who are you?"

"_We are Ancient…unyielding…unchanging… we preserve…conquer…guard. You MUST return. Come to us…_"

Elissa felt her stomach sink as the voice suddenly seemed to make the very mountain vibrate with the force of it.

"_I am your __**Salvation**__…_"

Elissa turned around, every hair on her body standing on end as she looked _UP_ into the sky.

She saw the darkness of a gigantic shadow as it descend upon the mountain, atop the ruins of the ancient building –

* * *

Elissa sat bolt upright in her bed, her legs entangled in the sheets, her hair and back drenched with sweat. She cried out, feeling a searing, burning heat against her chest. She looked down, and saw the charm around her neck smoking, smouldering her night gown, glowing white from heat like a branding iron. With fumbling fingers she clutched and pulled at the cord, tearing it away from her neck and threw it across the room, hearing it hiss as it hit the wall and then the floor.

She held her head in her hands, trying to regain her breathing, wiping away the sweat the dripped from her brow. She looked over at Alistair, sleeping soundly beside her.

It all made sense now. The dreams, the _visions_, she now understood them.

She knew the place in the dream, she'd been there before, she'd recognise it anywhere.

And now, she needed to go back.

* * *

Alistair drummed his nails impatiently on the table as he waited. He could smell the food, ready and prepared for him, teasing him with the promise of lamb and spices, of melted cheeses and roasted vegetables in wines… oh, it was too much.

He leaned his head on his other fist, looking at the doors, hoping to see a certain someone come sweeping in. He then looked back to the seat that she was supposed to sit in beside him, and then their dinner could finally start – Maker willing. The candles were beginning to drip wax onto the varnished wood, Alistair's impatient drumming seemed to grow louder as the long wait and the ever present silence continued.

_Honestly! _He thought, looking about and sighing to himself, kicking his legs out and thumping the back of his head against the high backed chair. _How long does it take her to get ready!_

She was now over an hour late. During the first ten minutes or so, he'd been fine – a little cranky, but fine. After that he'd gotten worried, fretting that something had happened, and now that she was _pregnant_ he didn't want to take any chances. Then he'd realised that if she knew what he'd been thinking, she'd have smacked him a good one for thinking her weak. He'd tried to relax. After half an hour his hunger said '_screw that_' and he ordered a few servants to go find her. Maybe she'd lost track of time and was in the study somewhere, or had gone for a ride, or had a previous engagement that he'd forgotten about – _again _– or maybe… maybe…

But by this time impatience was starting to turn into pouting-hungry-anger.

That was when he heard a little knock on the door.

He almost spun out of his seat in order to try and look over, his mouth already opened to give the real tongue lashing she deserved for this.

But then he saw Amethyne, and had to stop himself, the shout already half way up his throat. He clamped his mouth shut and drew his body tense to make sure he didn't hurl something at her. The thin elven girl came forward, her blue gowns beautiful on her tiny frame, her face cradled by the braids of her angelic golden hair. She seemed perfectly calm and serene – the girl was learning fast, everyday becoming more resourceful, more independent, more adult, Elissa was teaching her well. But no amount of training or self-discipline could hide the shifting uneasiness in her eyes, like a frightened animal being coaxed to feed from your palm, but still wild at heart, constantly fighting the urge to flee. When she drew close to the huge table, she cleared her throat and did a small curtsy.

"Your Majesty," she said softly. "I'm afraid the Queen won't be joining you,"

"What?" Alistair's mouth hung open in outraged disbelief. She decided this _NOW_? After making him wait an HOUR? "Where is she?" he asked, standing and striding towards the door. Whatever mood swings she was going through, he was going to give her a little talk about giving him a heads up so he could know when to _eat_.

"I'm afraid she'd not… here, Your Highness," Amethyne stuttered briefly.

Alistair paused, and slowly turned on his heel to face the girl.

"_What_?"

"Um," she mumbled nervously. She cleared her throat in an attempt to regain control of herself. But she completely avoided his eyes. "She instructed that I give you this," and with that she produced a small folded piece of parchment from her sleeve.

Alistair took it carefully, as if it were a viper she offered. He already had a sinking feeling in his gut. He opened the letter.

_Alistair. _

_If you make Amethyne upset, I'll personally gut you myself with a spoon! _

_Elissa. _

_P.S. I've gone a little trip. I won't be back for a few days._

_P.P.S. Please don't be angry._

Alistair practically exploded.

* * *

_The demon appeared, its form shifting and mutating as it gave it form with a mere thought. The Fade was alive…the spirits and demons, the very energy of the place itself was humming with…anticipation._

_The Tide had finally come. It was time…_

_It bowed low before the entity. _

_The entity barely acknowledged it, but the demon felt its gaze upon its form like fire upon mortal flesh. _

_"The proud human Queen has failed us…"_ _the demon whispered, its voice taking form through the energy of the Fade. It briefly touched the entity, like a wisp before a gale. _

**_No matter. Our time has come_**_… the entity spoke, its voice booming from the black void it occupied. The demon never saw the face of the entity, but its mastery of the Fade was unparalleled. __**Titus has the Calenhad King… and the God-Killer is with child… the Tide has come… Bring her to me…**_

* * *

Elissa looked up the mountain before her, an ironic sense of Deja Vu coming over her. Somewhere among those distant peaks was her goal.

She looked over to Wynne sitting beside her, a sad look on the old woman's face.

"I had hoped never to return to this place…" she murmured.

"Same as I," Elissa sighed. She and Wynne shared a sad smile.

"Are you sure that I cannot come with you?" she asked. "It would be foolish to go there alone."

"I'm not alone," Elissa smiled softly, reaching down from her horse to pet Bane as he stood beside her. "And you must go on your journey to Cumberland, you cannot delay that any longer,"

"Not after what happened at Kirkwall," Wynne looked at the floor.

Elissa sighed. She'd heard about that: The Mages rebelling against the Templars… the death and destruction in the streets was beyond counting… and it had all been because of Anders. Elissa felt her chest cave in at the thought of her friend capable of starting such a crime… all those Mages, the innocents… dead, and for what? To make a point? Oh Maker, Anders… what had he done? And what had _she_ done? Since then, all the Templar orders and Circles of Magi across Thedas had been thrown into chaos, and she and Alistair were struggling to keep control of Ferelden's Circle and Templar order as it was. Perhaps running off hadn't been such a good idea…

No, she had to be here, this was important. She felt it in her bones.

"Wynne," she said, reaching across and taking a hold of her friend's frail old hand, the flesh soft and tender. She looked into those old eyes, worn and weathered, but still as fierce as a wolf. She smiled faintly, giving the older woman a squeeze. "May the Maker watch over you,"

"May he watch over us all," Wynne whispered.

And then, with a touch of her heels, her mare whinnied and set off.

Bane whined as he watched them go, cocking his head. He looked up at Elissa, his ears flat against his head, his stubby tail drooping.

"I know boy," she murmured, and leaned down to scratch behind his ears. "Come on, we have our own quest to deal with." Turning her horse, she guided it up the path towards the mountain.

When she reached the village of Haven she slowed to hesitant walk, her fingers inches away from Starfang. The last time she'd been here the cult that she'd partially destroyed hadn't been all that welcoming. She dismounted, and quickly tied her horse to a post outside what would have been a stable – if it were not for the caved in roof and singed walls. In fact everywhere she looked, Elissa could only see decay, destruction and… emptiness. The town that had once been isolated and cold at best, was gone. It lay completely deserted, with only the buildings left to rot as they lay bare to the elements, the insides probably ransacked and pillaged of anything valuable of useful by raiders and bandits and mountain men.

She looked behind her to see Bane shivering behind her legs.

"Hey, I thought you were the fearless Mabari hound?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

Bane growled at her, as if to say '_And your point is?'_

"Bump and I feel _very_ well protected," she muttered sarcastically, a hand subconsciously drifting towards her stomach and settling over it. She wasn't showing yet, but Wynne had told her to keep herself out of whatever fighting she could, so as not to strain the muscles or cause injury to herself.

Easier said than done in Elissa's life. Especially as of late.

Scouting her way through the abandoned buildings, she found the desertion had gone through the entire town. Not a soul was left. Perhaps the cult had moved on, or had been eradicated? Either way, it didn't matter any longer. She quickly found her way past the town and took the steep incline towards the heights of the mountain.

It took her and Bane half of the day in order to find their way up the mountain side, somewhere along the way, Bane himself had taken the lead, scouting ahead of her to find the stable path, his strong paws and massive bulk finding the safe spots easily, as he navigated his way up the treacherous path. Elissa followed close behind, pulling her furs closer to her as she ascended, and the winds turned bitterly cold and soon she found that she was walking through snow and ice, making the going more of a painfully slow crawl.

Eventually they found the entrance to the temple, and Elissa found that awe in her chest once again, just like she had the first time she saw the place. The feeling of wondrous reverence, as if she were looking upon something greater than herself…something divine. And technically, she was. She was in the Temple of Andraste: the prophet of the Maker and his eternal bride, this was her final resting place, Elissa had been here once before as she sought the Earn of Sacred Ashes – the cremated remains of Andraste, said to be able to heal any ailment.

Using the medallion to unlock the entrance, Elissa and Bane quietly slipped inside.

Elissa had heard that after her expedition here, Brother Genitivi (who had found the temple's location) had told the world about his findings. Many pilgrims had come looking for the urn, but it had mysteriously disappeared, and with the fact that a High Dragon was nesting in the peaks above, the Chantry had considered the site too dangerous.

Elissa remembered the dragon when she'd come here before, she'd decided not to be suicidal and take on a High Dragon, and the beast had allowed her to continue into the temple. She hoped it would do the same again.

The huge entrance hall was like a cathedral of stone and ice, little filtered in in small shards of light that were reflected by the ice, creating a dazzling shine, as if heaven's light were filling the temple.

_That's a little ironically poetic,_ Elissa thought with a wry smile. She looked down at Bane who was sniffing at nearby pillar base. He cocked his head as he looked at it, and although he was not human, a look of what could only be described as confusion passed across his face. With a grunt, Bane shook his head and turned to cock a leg –

"AH-AH!" Elissa exclaimed, lunging towards him. Bane froze, his leg half way up, looking from her to the pillar worriedly. "Sorry boy but you're going to have to hold it – defiling ancient graveyards, yes. But no sacred, holy temples, thank you very much."

Bane whined, lowering his leg and slouching as he joined her side again.

Cautiously, they made their way through the temple, climbing grand staircases, going through huge double doors. More than once, Elissa saw the remains of human bones in little corners. She remembered them, the cultists she killed here. She felt a shiver pass over her, and hastened her step.

She soon found the stairs that led to the caverns above, trying her best to navigate the dark passages, Starfang out and ready in her hand, Bane scenting the air, both of them on edge encase there were any enemies lurking in the caves around them. Elissa half expected a giant spider or drake to come charging at her, but there was nothing. The only sound was the echo of her footsteps, other than that it was completely deserted. Somehow that was more disturbing then it crawling with monsters from the black hell.

Finding her way out, Elissa found the broken bridge over the peak, the great ruins of the sacred temple just across the flat.

And that was when she had a massive sense of Déjà vu.

This was the peak, the one from her dreams. The voice had been here, this is where she'd been summoned.

And she suddenly felt like such a fool. Her heart pounding, Starfang leapt into her hand, and she looked around, her eyes dancing around the mountain top, panting for breath.

_Stupid, stupid woman!_ She cursed herself. _You should have known it was a trap! Did you learn nothing during the Blight?!_

Silence.

She waited, her breath held in her throat.

She wasn't even aware that the dragon was upon her, until she heard the thunderous roar deafening her ears. Then the mountain seemed to erupt around her, snow and rock crumbling under its weight as she was surrounded by talons, scales and fire.


	10. Chapter 10 - Always

Chapter 10

Steel held her in a vice like grip, crushing her ribs, making it hard to breathe.

Elissa gasped for air as she came back from her black out, it was only a few moments later, but she found herself in a cage of talons, the wind buffeting her and the lurching motion of flight made her stomach turn.

It took her a second to realise that the dragon held her in its claws.

They flew over the mountain top, circling the peak that she had been on, and soaring higher and higher and higher, until the air became thin and ice winds numbed her hands and face. Elissa's head was spinning as she tried to breathe, and then suddenly, with a great thunder clap of its wings, the dragon banked and began to descend towards the top of the mountain, to a ledge just outside a cave.

Elissa felt her stomach turn to ice from anything but the cold, her heart sinking as if it were made of lead as she realised that the beast was taking her to its lair.

The dragon reared, its wings beating and whipping the snow into a flurry; its back legs landed on the ledge, its massive weight crashing into the rock, its tail whipping and smashing rocks from the ledge to tumble down the mountain side.

And then, it dropped her.

Elissa screamed as she unexpectedly fell fifteen feet from its talons. She hit the snow, pain shooting up her ankles as she landed and then rolled in order to clear out of the way as the dragon returned to all fours.

Craning her head, Elissa gazed up at her captor as it fixed her with dark eyes. It was the High Dragon from before, the one who was here the last time she'd been. Roughly twenty feet high and over forty feet long, its massive wing span almost blocking out the sun. Its deep red and purple scales almost vibrated as it growled, a sound so deep as it came from that massive chest that it made the snow shake in the air between them. The spikes and spines that decorated its neck, back and tail stood stark against the white of the snow. The High Dragon circled her, its eyes constantly watching her, baring its teeth as it snapped its massive jaws, rearing its neck up high so that it looked down on her with complete superiority.

Slowly rising to her feet, forcing herself to take slow and steady breaths, Elissa forced herself to hold eye contact with the monster, even as her blood pounded in her ears and her heart was uncontrollably breaking against her chest. She forced herself to show that calm mannerism of battle, even if she would totally lose, she would still be clear headed enough to face this creature in battle.

Her hand slowly reached for Starfang, her fingers closing around the handle –

The High Dragon roared: its jaw opening impossibly wide to display its long white teeth. Its scream thundered across the mountain, causing snow to fall further down and start an avalanche; the noise assaulted Elissa's eardrums, making her cry out in pain as she covered her ears and hunkered down, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain as her ears rang.

It seemed like forever before her ears stopped screaming, and she could finally comprehend her world once again.

Even with her head still ringing, Elissa shot to her feet, Starfang instantly in her hand, singing as it thirsted for battle, she held the sword high, ready for –

And found a woman standing before her.

A woman, perhaps six feet tall, with skin like ivory that glittered as if frozen by the ice and snow around her. She had a strong, physical body, nothing extravagant or bulky, but indeed, Elissa saw the strength that she possessed in her muscular arms and legs. Her hair was so long that it touched the ground and gathered at her feet, parts of it was pulled forward and covered her naked breasts. In fact, all of her was naked, but hairless, her skin without any blemish or imperfection. She had a long, angular face whose beauty was apparent in the savagery that it beheld. Her lips a thin hard line, her jaw and cheek bones strong and prominent, but her eyes… her eyes glowed with the heat of dragon fire.

Was this another prisoner? Elissa looked at the woman disbelievingly, completely confused as to why the dragon would keep live prisoners. But something wasn't right, she could sense it in her gut; power seemed to radiate from this woman, electrifying the air around her like crackling lightning bolts.

"You have come…" the woman said.

Elissa flinched, and held Starfang up and ready, gritting her teeth as her muscles screamed as she got into her battle-stance. She knew that voice, the one from the dream! It echoed a whisper and roared a shout: it was both menacing and kind, male and female, in her head but thundering through her ears. The woman lifted a large hand with long pointed nails that more resembled talons then fingernails.

"Do not be afraid mortal," she said, her eyes unblinking as she locked gazes with Elissa. "I pose no threat to you,"

"Who are you?!" Elissa hissed, taking a half step back in order to gain some distance between her and this… this… _creature_.

"I am the Old One," the woman said, lowering her arm as she continued to stare at Elissa with wide eyes.

"What are you?" Elissa breathed.

"The Old One," the woman said again.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Elissa whispered, her heart skipping several beats with terror. _No, this cannot be right…_ "You mean, you're an Old God? I thought they were asleep deep beneath the earth,"

The woman tilted her head, for the first time blinking curiously, as if she were considering the words.

"No," she said simply. "The Ancient Ones that you refer to as the "Old Gods" are not I, nor am I one of them."

"Then what are you?"

"I am Dragon-kin," the woman proclaimed, holding her arms out as if to embrace the magnitude of her statement. "And we are the Old Ones. We were here before the time of men, we were here before the mountains and the rivers that you know of today. We were here when the world was young, and we ruled the skies and lived without fear of mortals killing our young and driving us to extinction."

"So what," Elissa asked, confused again. "You're telling me that you're… that you're the dragon?"

With a flash and another deafening shriek, the woman contorted and grew as her body took on the shape of the High Dragon, her eyes burning fiercely as she loomed menacingly above her.

Elissa shrieked as she tried to back up away from the monster before her. But then, with a second scream, the dragon was gone, and the woman stood in her place, as if not a single hair had been moved.

"B-but… b-but h-how did you – I mean h-how did…" Elissa stumbled, her voice utterly failing her for words as her mind tried to comprehend what she had just seen.

"There are ancient magics in this world," the woman said, and did her eyes give a hint of a smile? "And we Dragon-kin have always been in tune with the world and with energies of magic."

"So you shape change all the time?" Elissa asked, feeling awkward as she thought that she was having a conversation with a dragon. _Surely, the Maker has a very poor sense of humour. _

"No," the Old One said finally. "I only change to this shape now so that we may converse,"

"Is that why you brought me here?" Elissa narrowed her eyes at the dragon-woman-_thing_. "To talk?"

"No, I summoned you here, to protect you,"

"Excuse me?" Elissa spluttered, she couldn't help the giggle of disbelief. A dragon was trying to protect her? _Oh, I bet the Maker is pissing himself indeed_, she thought wryly.

"You are amused, but I was unaware that I had said something humorous," The Old One raised an eyebrow at her.

"_YOU_, are trying to protect _ME_?" Elissa scoffed. "I'm sorry, but you're beginning to push what I can believe,"

"Did you think there was some other reason that I would bring you here?"

"Besides to kill me?"

The woman sighed as if in exasperation, like she were trying to explain something complicated to a young child.

"There are things in this world that are worth noting. Sometimes they are bad, others they are good, others they just grab the attention of all those who have the ears to listen for them." The woman explained, walking slowly, her stride like a cat on the prowl: smooth, graceful, weightless, flawless, and deadly. "Seven years ago, a catastrophic incident started a chain of events that now cannot be undone,"

"The Blight," Elissa breathed.

"And from that, something much larger on the scale of all things in the universe was started. From the plague that you call "the Blight", you were made a tainted warrior – a Grey Warden. And that in itself set you on your path: you then allowed the soul of an Ancient One to be preserved in the form of another, starting a battle you cannot begin to comprehend,"

"Morrigan's son," Elissa glared at the woman. "How do you know that?!"

"As I said: some things happen and can grab the attention of those who listen," the Old One's eyes shone with a predatory gleam. "Also from the Blight, the Blood of the Hawke managed to escape and carve a life in the City of Chains, making way for the start of your Mage War,"

"Hawke – the Champion of Kirkwall – but she wasn't responsible for what happened there, Anders was!" Elissa exclaimed, wide eyed.

"But she paved the way for him and set him on his path," the Old One stated, her long legs closing the distance between them with calm ease, even as Elissa tried to maintain that distance, making the pair circle each other. "And now, you are with child,"

"What has that got to do with it?!" Elissa spat furiously, a red hot anger burning in her defensively. So much for all-knowing, this was just freaky!

"Everything," the Old One snapped impatiently. "If your actions before were enough to grab my attention, the moment that you conceived this child, was enough to consume me. You are a Grey Warden: your blood is tainted to master the blackness of the Darkspawn, but more than this, you are altered by the blood of the Ancient Ones – the Old Gods – you must drink their blood in order to join the Wardens, and now their blood sings through you. What's more, you are mated with a son of the Calenhad King, the blood of High Dragons flows through his veins and now flows in your child's. And, you meddled in deep magic in order to acquire such a pregnancy."

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

"It means that your child is born of three very powerful, very ancient magics. Many a dark force would seek to control such power. The blood of Dragons and Gods and Magic is in your child. And you are the Bane of Blights, and a powerful enemy to the right people.

"Mortal, I am not the only one who has noticed this, and others WILL come, and they will take your child away, either to kill it for the threat it poses or to exploit its power. And they will not hesitate to kill you in the process."

"No one is taking my Child!" Elissa growled, her hands unconsciously tightening around Starfang's hilt. "And I can handle myself,"

"It is not about that!" The Old One snarled, her eyes flashing fire with the surge of her anger, her teeth seemed to _grow_ for a moment into sharp points. Before she readjusted her composure and her camouflage fell back into perfect place. "This is more than anything you can even think of! I sent word to you that first night when you conceived – and many nights since then – because I knew that this power had to be protected."

"So what do you suggest?"

"The witch who conceived a child under similar circumstances, took her offspring somewhere far away, into another realm,"

"Morrigan?" Elissa wondered. "She went through the _Eluvian_, she said it was somewhere beyond this realm and beyond the Fade,"

"She was correct," The Old One nodded. "And you must do the same,"

"What?!" Elissa cried, outraged. She pointed Starfang at the Old One, her fingers tightening around the sword, aching to drive it into flesh and bone. "Explain yourself. Now."

"Do not raise your hand to me unless you're prepared for the consequences, _Mortal_," the Old One's words dripped with menace, her eyes burning like liquid fire, the only precursor to her change.

Elissa held her eyes for a moment, but then, slowly lowered her sword.

"It is simple," the Dragon woman offered, her tone calm, rather matter-of-factly. "You and the child are too vulnerable to stay here. Dark forces are gathering faster than you can imagine, and they will not hesitate to strike, they will take every opportunity they can. My advice is a simple one: flee. Live. Go somewhere far away, where no one can ever find you. Ride out this storm, and live to fight another day. I can help you stay safe; I can protect you, if you'll let me,"

"What? I just go now? I just leave and come back when it suits you?"

"You'll come back when the time is right," the Old One's eyes seemed to soften with something close to kindness. "I can give you the protection you need, I can even help you fight back, but not until your enemy is in a state that they can be attacked."

"No," Elissa breathed.

The Old One blinked.

"No?" she asked, disbelieving.

"I can't abandon everything I've built." Elissa murmured, her heart twisting as she thought of Alistair, how happy he'd been to find out she was with child, even after all her worries, he'd still wanted her, wanted _them_. "My husband, my home, my friends, my _Kingdom_, I can't abandon them!"

"They are dispensable compared to the importance of this child - and this threat," the woman waved it away with a casual flick of her taloned hand.

"How dare you say that?!" Elissa spat. "That is my whole world down there, I can't give it up! I'm not raising my child without a home… without a father…"

"Then you may not be raising it at all,"

They stared at each other for what seemed like the longest time.

"What do you want?" Elissa finally breathed, unable to keep the weight on her shoulders any more.

"I offer you a choice," the Old One said. "Come with me, and I give you my word that you and your child will be safe, and one day you'll return, and you can defeat this evil and take back your life. Or, you can stay, in which case I cannot protect you from the dangers ahead, and all that you hold dear could die around you,"

"But… Alistair… I can't…" she looked at the woman, her eyes pleading.

"Would you rather he live in pain from your departure, and then rejoice when you returned and could be a family once more; or would you rather he be at peace with you by his side, until either you or your child are murdered before his eyes? This child may be the one thing that can save us, but should it die or fall into the wrong hands because you couldn't tear yourself from him…" The Old One paused, and then looked with hard but knowing eyes at her captive. "Stand in the ashes of a thousand dead, and ask them if honour is worth the price they paid... The silence is your answer."

Elissa looked at the floor, her heart breaking into a thousand pieces, the truth ringing clear in her ears, though every fibre of her being rebelled against the idea, refusing to believe she could do this. A single tear fell from her eyes. This was her baby… her husband… their future…

"I can't…" she whispered.

"You must,"

Elissa fell to her knees, leaning on her sword as if it could keep her up, tears streaming down her face, the hopelessness biting her like the cold snow upon her numb fingers.

"Just…" she struggled to breathe past the lump in her throat. "Just let me say goodbye… _please_."

"Summon me when you need me,"

And then she was gone.

Elissa wept in the snow.

* * *

Alistair sat on his charger, glaring at the horizon as he waited by Denerim's gates, a whole company of troops flanking him. The sun was setting over the distant landscape, and he watched silently, clenching his jaw with barely restrained fury as his hands tightened on the reins of his horse, making the tough leather creak and moan in protest.

Then he saw his quarry come into view. A rider with pale blonde hair pulled up into a bun, light leather armour glinting in the fading light, her shield and sword strapped to her back. She was surrounded by four armed guards that escorted her from all sides towards Alistair's waiting presence, her Mabari Hound flanking her protectively. Alistair's eyes were practically burning as he seethed as he watched her every move as she was brought to him. She sat upright, regal and beautiful as ever, a slight crinkle in her brow told him she was annoyed – as if she had anything compared to him at this moment.

For some reason, her composure made his blood boil all the more.

Elissa had been gone a whole week, she'd told not a soul where she had gone, only left around the same time as Wynne. The only clue as to her leaving was the fact that she had left Alistair the note and her horse was missing. Alistair had gone on a rampage, everyone had been shocked to see this side of him, usually a calm, humorous, sometimes stern man, had suddenly exploded in a fit of rage. He'd commanded for every city guard to be interrogated in order to learn who had let them out; he'd called all ships to dock in order to see if someone had stashed her aboard their ship. Then, thinking if she'd gone with Wynne, he ordered that the paths from his Kingdom to Cumberland be closed and all routes thoroughly searched in an attempt to see if she'd crossed over the border. No luck anywhere.

Finally, the guards posted around her brought her to him, and they stopped before him. Alistair did not break a second of eye contact.

"Is the armed escort really necessary?" Elissa raised a frustrated eyebrow at him.

He said nothing to her. He turned to the captain of the royal guard beside him.

"Escort the Queen to the royal apartments, I would speak with her privately," he stated, turning his horse away to face back into the city.

"I'm right here," she snapped.

He ignored her.

"And make sure her Honour Guard _keeps_ her there," he growled.

Alistair led the procession, taking the party through the most direct route towards the palace. He didn't want this but by the Maker he didn't care who saw or what they thought. This was between him and his wife.

When they reached the palace, Elissa glared and tried to squirm out of her captors, but Alistair didn't say anything to her, he just ordered that she be taken to the royal apartments. And curiously, she stopped fighting, hurt flickering in her eyes as she complied and went with her guards.

The small guilt he felt made his anger flare once again.

Autumn had fully set in, the wind racing across the courtyard, billowing the leaves in the wind and making his cape flutter in the gale force winds. A storm was brewing just out to sea beyond the horizon, the dark clouds swirling like a dragon writhing in the air, the flashes of lightning its eyes that sparked with dangerous intent. There was a chance that the storm would simply pass over, and Alistair prayed for that – he didn't want to deal with the headache that would be clean up duty once it was over.

He made his rounds to all the garrisons and guard outposts, making sure that the castle was well fortified and all patrols were doubled, he didn't want anyone getting in or out without proper authorisation.

But in truth, he didn't want to face going to his rooms and seeing her there, trapped like a bird in a cage, refusing to sing as she looked out of the bars for her freedom.

But by the Maker he had a few words to say to her.

He entered the royal apartments, and had a brief flash of panic when he noticed that she wasn't immediately there. Quickly striding into the bedroom, he saw her sitting at the end of the bed, still in her travelling clothes, staring at the floor. As soon as she noticed him she looked up, her eyes full of apprehension and… fear?

She didn't say anything.

Alistair snorted. Maker, if she wasn't even going to defend herself he wasn't going to waste his time. He went to the dressing room and began to unbuckle his cape and armour, subtly noticing how she stayed on the bed; she did not follow him, and she did not speak.

As he dressed himself in a simple pair of breeches and a loose shirt, the silence stretched out between them. Elissa's eyes were constantly watching him, she didn't make a sound, and she didn't move.

Very well, if that was to be the game, then Alistair could play too, he thought sullenly to himself as he stalked back out into the bedroom and went to exit into the main room. No way was he caving into her sick little game of chicken. No way.

That lasted of all of ten seconds.

Turning on his heel, Alistair stormed back into the bedroom, blasting the doors open with a 'BANG' as he came to stand in front of her, his eyes blazing as he fumed before her.

"What in the Maker's name do you think you were playing at?!" he hissed.

Elissa just looked at him with those big grey eyes, simply waiting for him to continue.

"How dare you!?" he pointed a finger at her accusingly. "How dare you decide to run off like that?! You are not _a child_, you are an adult – or at least I thought you were! To think that you could run away like that without telling anyone," he began to pace as he raged, trying to vent all of his anger, all of his frustration until the air around him was dripping with it.

"I did leave you a note," she muttered under her breath.

"No!" he snapped furiously. "No! You do not get to make smart little comments! You threw away the right to do that when you went AWOL on me and disappeared!"

"Alistair, please try to understand," she murmured softly to him, her voice gentle, trying to placate him. "This was something I had to do,"

"Was it so important that you couldn't even discuss it with me?" he rounded on her with furious eyes. "That you couldn't even trust me to let me know where you were going?"

Elissa looked miserably at the floor, not wanting to give him an answer.

"And perhaps what was worse than that was the fact that you only took your bloody dog with you, not even ONE guard," he spat as he returned to his pacing.

"I can handle myself," she snapped quietly, irritably.

"But it's not about you anymore!" he shouted vehemently. "Or did you forget for a moment the fact that you are _PREGNANT_ with our child?!"

"You think I could forget something like that?!"

"I know that the woman I married wouldn't have forgotten something like that. But after this past week I'm not sure anymore." She flinched at his words, and he was too smug to see it to feel guilty about it. "Are you still the same person?"

"You know I am!" she pleaded.

"Then why Elissa? Why?!" he roared. "Do you know how much I changed for you? To be the man you needed me to be, to be the King you wanted me to be? You made me King, even though I didn't want it, even though I would have been happy to just be yours and let Anora rule despite the fact that she was stuck up, arrogant, and a bitch. So now we're royalty: THAT means that we can't just go off and do as we please. Or do the same rules not apply to you?"

"Alistair, please –"

"Why? Give me one good reason why you couldn't even tell your own husband, Elissa? Whatever happened to 'Hide no secrets, and share all aspects of our lives as we are joined forever in the eyes of the Maker'?"

"I didn't know what I was getting into, I couldn't put you in danger –"

"But it's alright to put yourself in danger? To put our _BABY_ in danger?!"

"No, of course not!"

"So what then?!"

"Alistair, please!" Elissa shouted, standing as she came before him, her eyes glistening as she begged him. "This was something I needed to do, but I knew that I couldn't bring you into it. I wanted to, by the Maker I swear I did! But I couldn't risk getting into a situation where I might lose you,"

"So… what? You think it is better for me to find out that I wasn't there to protect my wife, my queen, the love of my life, my unborn child; to know that I could have done something, and instead I lost them both because I wasn't there?" he said a little softer, his voice becoming hoarse with emotion. "Because I would rather go down fighting to protect the ones I love most in this world, because I couldn't imagine a life without them," he whispered as he came in close to her, the tip of his finger tracing the line of her jaw absently.

Elissa felt her heart freeze as she heard the dragon's words in Alistair's voice. In an attempt to hide her terror, she shivered under his touch and lifted her hand to cup his cheek in her palm, feeling his light stubble, taking in his weight as he leaned into her.

"And that was why I couldn't bring you," she whispered softly. "Because I know that _I_ couldn't bare this world without _you_, and I know that I'll lose you to your damn stupidity and righteousness,"

"And I know that I'll lose you to your zero sense of self preservation,"

They smiled, huffing a small laughter as they stared into each other's eyes. Leaning forward until their foreheads touched, and their breath mingled as they held each other close.

"Why couldn't you even tell me?" he whispered.

Elissa had no answer for him, and just leaned harder into him, desperately seeking the warmth of his body against hers.

"You scared me so much," she heard him murmur. "You frightened me,"

"I'm sorry," she whispered back.

"Don't EVER do that again,"

And then he lifted her chin with the tips of his fingers and kissed her, deep, hard, longingly, sorrowfully. And she kissed him back.

She wept silent tears as she thought of what she would have to do.

Maker's breath, how was she supposed to give him up?

* * *

Toby looked out over Denerim City, shivering slightly from the bite of the cold night air. He held his spear more like a walking stick as he leaned against it to keep him standing. He grumbled to himself as he thought of how he could be in his soft bed, the whore Nancy from the Pearl warming his bed for him, and a jug of ale in his other hand. Instead, because of the King's stupid paranoia and martial problems he was stuck doing double guard duty on the palace walls.

At least he wasn't alone. Cedric and Harry were here with him at least, so maybe it wasn't so bad.

"You know," Cedric thought aloud – as he_ always_ did. "I stopped believing in the gods when I realised that the word 'god' was 'dog' spelt backwards,"

Or maybe not.

"There are no 'gods' Ced," Harry muttered impatiently. "There is only the Maker,"

"I know, but the Maker is a god and –"

"No Ced, you don't know nothing," Harry snapped. "Just shut up will ya? It's only another hour of so till sunrise and I don't want to spend it listenin' to your rubbish!"

"It ain't rubbish! I know lots of things! Like my momma said once that a woman's bubbies are –"

"Oh for the love of Andraste's flaming sword up my arse! Will you shut up!?"

"You shut up! At least I know –"

"Both of you SHUT UP!" Toby shouted causing both men to look at him, confused for a moment. "Maker, it's like working with children,"

"I disagree," came a silky voice.

All three guards jumped to attention and rounded on the figure who came out of the shadows. The Antivan elf laughed heartily at their pale faces as he came close, cape hugging his form from the night winds. The men lowered their weapons slowly, unsurely, the elf was a friend of the King but his phantom ways of coming and going did little to put them at ease.

"Do not look so worried my friends," Zevran gave them a toothy smile, a sinister side of him loving the spooks he made them feel.

"Forgive us sir," the guard – Toby – spoke up softly. "The men are just tired, it puts their patience on a short leash. It won't happen again," Zevran waved them away with a dismissive hand.

"Enough with the pleasantries, Maker I am not your mother," he gave them another wolfish smile. "When do you switch posts?"

The guards hesitated; their mouths open as they looked at one another uncertainly.

"Gentlemen, please, your catching flies." Zevran tutted. "A lesser man would find something to stuff in those mouths," he wiggled his eyebrows at them and watched them pale as their faces drew stone still with shock.

Suddenly, something flapped as it skidded over the wall, and crashed into the brazier, knocking it over and putting it out, sealing that part of the wall in darkness. The men looked to it, but saw nothing move, and heard nothing.

"What was that?" Zevran murmured, his hand drifting towards the daggers strapped to his back.

"Probably a bird," Cedric murmured.

"Harry," Toby ordered. "Check it out,"

Harry sighed in exasperation, but drew his sword as he strode forward towards the disturbance, as he reached the edge of the light from their own brazier, the darkness stood before him like a wall –

Suddenly a clawed hand emerged from the blackness and grabbed Harry's head, crushing it into a pulp and dragging the guard into the darkness.

Before the others had any time to react, monstrous shades emerged from the shadows, screeching their hunting calls as they slithered along the ground, striking at the helpless guards. Zevran was a little better prepared, drawing his daggers and spinning with both in his hands, slicing at the hands and arms of the demons as they reached for him. They screamed in pain, trying to stun him, but Zevran merely leapt back, flipping through the air as he did so. He landed lightly on his feet, unable to do anything as the guards were dragged away into the shadows, their cries quickly silenced with a gurgling cough. He was almost distracted as a shade lunged for him, claws ready to render him to ribbons. Zevran danced back, slicing at the Shade's arm; the demon retracted the limb in shock and pain, and using the opening, Zevran leapt in close, plunging one of his daggers into the demon's chest and slicing its throat with the other. The demon gave one last scream as its body became ash as it was sent back into the Fade.

Zevran twirled his daggers with a flick of his wrists, ready to face the others, when his jaw dropped.

Dozens of demons, shades, walking corpses and other nightmares were climbing up the walls of the palace, quickly overwhelming the forces of the guards. They came like a tidal wave, nothing able to stop them, when one guard cut one down, three more took its place, and ripped him apart.

Looking behind him, he searched for the windows to the royal apartments, and began to back away as the demons came up over the sides of the wall, slipping into the palace.

Zevran turned on his heel and ran as fast as his feet could carry him towards the royal chambers.

* * *

Elissa lay there in the dark, her head resting on Alistair's shoulder, his arm draped over her waist and pulling her closer to him possessively. Her hand lay on his chest, her fingers lightly tracing patterns across his pecks absently, her mind on other things.

Maker's breath, this felt so good, to be here with him, to just lay in his arms and to not think about anything outside of their room. But she couldn't help but think of what the dragon had told her, of what she had to do.

But how could she? Alistair had been hurting enough, she couldn't just abandon him.

But if she didn't… she risked losing everything.

Suddenly, the room felt too enclosed, too stuffy for her liking. As quietly as she could, she crept out of bed, taking extra care not to wake Alistair. He snuffled a bit but quickly went back to his soft snoring. Elissa decided to take Starfang and a whetstone, to at least have something to occupy her mind. She then went out through the chambers and made her way towards the walkways on top of the castle walls.

The night was a little chilly, and she tied her robe around her nightgown in order to offer her some protection against the wind. The storm was brewing, drawing ever closer, obscuring the night so that there was only blackness beyond the light of the castle fires. Here, Elissa knew she could at least think in peace, and promptly pulled up a chair next to brazier and began to work over her blade. It was something her mother had always taught her, strangely enough: that a warrior who looks after their weapon with care and affection will have a loyal sword, no matter the handler. At first Elissa had though it to be hogwash, complete nonsense as her father had taught her: a weapon is a double edged blade able to turn on any and every master. But it wasn't until Elissa had been captured in Fort Draken that she had fully grasped her mother's meaning.

When trying to escape, a guard had tried to stop her just as Alistair and Morrigan reached her with their daring rescue. The guardsman held her precious Starfang in his greasy fingers. Starfang was one of the most dangerous blades ever forged, Elissa knew this, and as he attacked her with her own weapon, not once did the blade make contact with her. If she were a dreamer she would have thought the sword was protecting her, unable to harm its master. But in truth, Elissa knew her blade better than anyone, she knew its precise weight, what grip to use, the way it swung, its speed, even it stress limits, and she was able to easily exploit this knowledge, using it to her advantage and quickly winning back her sword.

So Elissa sat there, carefully and affectionately working over her blade, muttering the words of a song Leliana had once taught her. Whilst her body did this religious task as easy as if breathing, her mind wandered to thoughts of her predicament. And she shivered as she thought of how she was going to live through this.

"My Lady?"

Elissa turned around to see Amethyne standing there, in her own nightdress, shivering slightly from the cold, her golden hair pulled back into a braid, revealing her pointed ears. Elissa smiled and indicated another stool by the brazier near where she sat.

"Come," she said gently. "Sit down and get warm girl, or you'll freeze,"

"Thank you, my lady," the girl whispered reverently as she came to sit by the fire, huddling her hands around its heat.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Elissa asked, her eyes going back to the task of her hands.

"I heard that you had returned but I didn't get to see you," the girl stated a little hesitantly. "I couldn't sleep and when I heard you pass by my door I came looking,"

"You heard me?" Elissa asked, doubting at the same time as impressed.

"If you know what to listen out for, then if you're listening for it you can hear it," the girl shrugged. Elissa chuckled softly.

"Clever girl," she smiled, and felt pride bloom when Amethyne grinned from the praise. "And I'm sorry I didn't see you; Alistair was a little upset – to say the least – and I needed to sort things out with him,"

"Oh, I understand," Amethyne said quickly. "Your duty and relationship to the King is more important,"

Elissa was about to say something, but stopped. _Her duty and relationship to the King_, for some reason that statement irked her, it struck a chord within her heart and made her suddenly defensive.

"He is not just my King, he is…" she trailed off, an emptiness suddenly dawning within her. "He's… he's much more," and with the realisation, came the knowledge that she couldn't leave him.

Then they heard the bell toll.

Once for the hour.

Twice for the Monarchs continuing health.

Thrice for the stroke of midnight.

But the bell only tolled four times if the palace was under attack.

Elissa shot to her feet, Starfang in hand, and looked over the walls back onto the courtyard below.

Men were running to and fro, running to the walls, the barracks, the portcullis, captains were desperately trying to organise their men as they readied their weapons to face an as yet unknown enemy.

Suddenly, an ear splitting shriek filled the sky, making everyone's ears ring. Elissa felt a chill run down her spine, an instinct she could not supress making her tighten her grip on Starfang. When she looked back into the courtyard, her royal guard, the entire palace was fighting demons.

"Amethyne…" Elissa breathed, her eyes wide as she backed away from the horrific sight. "Amethyne we must get –"

"ARGH!"

Elissa spun around at the sound of the young girl's scream, lifting her sword and launching into a battle pose. Amethyne backed away from the wall, as a Shade climbed over, its body slithering grotesquely as it hissed at them. With claws as long as daggers, it reached for them, its eyes glowing madly. Elissa noticed two other sets of hands grip the wall in an attempt to climb up. The Shade regarded them both, its eyes fixed on Elissa but noticed the elven girl in its way; it brought its hand back to strike the obstacle aside –

"Amethyne!" Elissa shouted, lunging forward and slicing Starfang in a tight arc across the demon's shoulder and down its arm. It screamed in pain, but quickly turning on her heel and shoving her bodyweight, Elissa switched directions, using her momentum to slice the creature open from its left shoulder, across the throat and opening up its chest cavity. With a grunt, Elissa kicked the dead creature in the stomach, propelling it into another of its kind, sending them both toppling over the wall.

A rage demon and another Shade took their place.

"Run Amethyne!" Elissa snarled, grabbing the girl's collar and hauling her towards the doors. But the girl hesitated, her eyes wide with terror as she pleaded with her mistress to come with her. Elissa glared over her shoulder at her, and purposefully stepped in front of the demons. "Go! Now! RUN!"

The girl took off, running as fast as her legs would carry her and slamming the door shut behind her. Elissa glared back at the demons who were circling her intently.

"Come on you sons of bitches!" she cursed and charged. She dove under the Shade's right flank, sliding and allowing her hip to take the brunt of the fall. As she slid, she sliced through the Shade's ribs, and then quickly bounced onto the balls of her feet and lunged towards the demon of Rage. It roared at her, larva like limbs slicing through the air in an attempt to cleave her in two. Elissa narrowly missed them, as she flew through the air towards the demon, and sank her blade deep within its head.

Pulling her sword free, Elissa clambered to her feet, slightly out of breath from the adrenaline rush pounding through her veins in time with her heart beat.

But then she saw another group of demons climbing over the wall.

"You've got to be kidding me!" she hissed, and then turned on her heel and ran.

* * *

The bells were what awoke Alistair.

He opened his eyes, confusion giving way to suspicion, which turned into fear when he realised that Elissa was not beside him.

And then he heard a scream.

Jumping out of bed, waking Bane in the process as the hound growled and got to its feet as it followed him; he ran across the room, coming to the main lounge and –

With a loud "BANG!" the doors to the royal chambers burst open and Zevran and the Royal Honour Guard came pouring into the chambers. They looked almost perplexed, looking around the room, and Alistair looked at Zevran just as Zevran looked at Alistair.

"What in the Maker's name is going on?!" Alistair demanded.

"My King," said one of the guard, saluting as he came close. "The Palace is under attack!"

"What!?" Alistair rounded on Zevran, his eyes burning.

"Demons," the Antivan elf muttered and Bane growled at the word. Alistair had to admit, he looked a little worse for wear, he was panting and holding his side as if he'd been injured, but that deadly ferocity and killing grip on his daggers was still intimidating. "They took the Castle by surprise, the guards are swarmed. They've called for the City Guard. We're trying to hold on until reinforcements arrive,"

"Where's Elissa?!" Alistair hissed.

"Wait, she'd not with you?" Zevran's eyes widened in panic.

They stared at each other for a fraction of a second, a dreadful silence filling the room punctured only by Bane's worried whining. Then Alistair spun on his heel and faced down the commander of his guard.

"Right! We're splitting into two teams!" he barked furiously and the guard jumped to attention to do as he bid. "Team One: I want every able bodied warrior in the castle to fight! Those who cannot I want evacuated into the City! Then you're going to join the guard and help them until reinforcements arrive – I will not let them take my Palace!"

Half the group split off, jogging out of the chambers and down the hall. Alistair then addressed whoever was left.

"Team Two: We're going to fight our way through the Castle and find my damned Wife!" he snarled.

He rushed back into the bedroom and quickly assembled some basic armour and strapped on his sword and shield before leading the group as they stormed through the castle.

"I didn't see her on my way up," Zevran explained as he kept pace with the King. "Where do you think we should start?"

"Bane," the Mabari hound looked at Alistair intently. "Find her," Alistair growled. With a snort, Bane quickly trotted ahead and took the lead, following his nose as he scented the air.

"So we're following the hound now? Perfect," Zevran muttered sarcastically.

Suddenly they heard a scream, spinning with all of them drawing their weapons in preparation for a fight. And then they saw Amethyne running down the hall, clutching her skirts as she ran, her face pale. She stopped in front of them, breathing heavily, her face streaked with tears.

"Amethyne?" Alistair frowned at her.

"D-d-demons!" the girl stuttered with a gasp and a sob.

"Are you hurt?" Zevran asked.

"N-no…" she panted, her body now shaking from the demand for oxygen. "B-but… the-the queen –"

"Where is she?!" Alistair demanded, striding forward to grasp the frail girl.

"The-the r-ramparts…" she breathed.

Alistair quickly let her go and jogged around her, heading straight for the doors leading to the ramparts with Bane barking furiously as he ran ahead.

"You!" Zevran pointed to one of the Honour Guard. "Take her somewhere safe," he ordered, and then ran in order to keep up with Alistair, ignoring the pain in his side.

* * *

Elissa slammed the door shut behind her, hauling a piece of wood over the door in order to barricade it. She heard the thumping and thrashing of bodies against the wood, as the demons tried to break down the door in an attempt to get at her. She backed up, trying to catch her breath, leaning on Starfang as she did so.

And then she realised her mistake.

She had ran from the demons, running along the ramparts, trying to find a position where she could fortify herself, find cover and attack, or better yet find a way back into the castle where she could regroup with the guards, even grab her armour. Instead the demons had corralled her, although she'd cut a fair number down in her attempt to escape, they'd still managed to get her cornered and she came here.

And 'here' was cornered on the roof of the open tower.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

She paced, looking out over the walls: she could see most of the castle from here, from the ramparts on either side, to the courtyards and baileys below. She held her face in her hands, trying to calm her racing heart.

"ELISSA!"

Turning, Elissa looked over the edge of the wall, and to her amazement, awe and horror, she saw Alistair racing towards her along the ramparts, Bane, Zevran and a team of the Honour guard right on his heels. A gang of demons faced them, blocking their way into the tower. Alistair roared as he charged them, swinging his sword and cleaving the first demon in two, before he was set upon by the others.

"ALISTAIR!" Elissa screamed, her heart leaping into her chest with fear.

Suddenly, there was a gigantic "BOOM" that almost deafened her, the shockwave of the sound whipping her hair and almost sending her to her knees. Elissa covered her ears and gritted her teeth, noticing the warriors below do the same, and in their distraction, a few of the Guard were cut down by the unaffected demons.

Then the night was filled with an eerie glow, and Elissa turned with wide-eyed fear as she looked to the sky. A huge green crack split the night sky, like the ice on a river, it grew and grew until it hung over Denerim City. With another sonic BOOM the crack split apart, revealing a swirling massive vortex of reds and greens and blacks. Elissa felt every bone in her body tingle with fear, every instinct telling her that the sight she saw was wrong: a violation, a defilement of nature itself! And then, fireballs began to reign down from the sky and smashed into Denerim City setting the houses ablaze; the screams of the horrified, the hurt, and the dying, could be heard within minutes.

Time seemed to slow, as Elissa realised what all of this was. The veil – the very thing that kept the horrors of the Fade away from the real world – had just been torn asunder. And now, untold horrors had been unleashed upon the world, upon Ferelden, upon her beloved Denerim City! She did not need a Mage or scholar to tell her this, she knew it in her bones.

"_Dark forces are gathering, and they will not hesitate to strike. Go somewhere where no one can ever find you. Ride out this storm, and live to fight another day._" The dragon's words echoed in her mind, and Elissa realised that they had come true.

She'd made a mistake, this was all her fault.

She'd lost.

* * *

Alistair quickly recovered from the blast, and looked up in horror as he saw that the veil had been torn apart. But he could not look, as a demon lunged for him. Alistair turned and went to engage his enemy –

And then his mind panicked as he realised that he was no longer in his own body.

He could see himself, somewhere far below as if in another plain of existence: fighting, commanding his remaining men, doing things that he would normally do, except that he wasn't in his body.

"Alistair…"

He turned at the sound of her voice. Elissa stood there, but not, she seemed transparent, as if she were only partly there with him, and he looked over to see her body still on top of the tower, pacing as she looked up towards the sky in horror. He looked back at her, wanting to go to her but seemingly could not. His legs didn't move, nor did she.

"Alistair, what's happening?" she asked him, her voice shrill with fear the likes of which he had never heard in her before.

"It's the Fade," he said. "With the veil torn, the real world and the Fade have crossed over,"

"Alistair, I …" she trailed off, her eyes glistening. He wanted to reach her, to take her in his arms and hold her close, an ache forming in his chest when he realised he could not. "I'm afraid,"

"Don't worry," he assured her, his eyes focused only on her, wanting to reach her with his soul where his arms could not. "I'm coming for you, you hear me? I'm coming!"

"Alistair…" she whispered sadly, a single tear streaking down her cheek as she looked at him knowingly. "Alistair, something is going to happen –"

"No…" he murmured, a feeling of utter dread that turned his stomach to stone building within him.

"– and you have to promise me –"

"No!"

" – you have to promise me that you will keep yourself safe!" she begged, her breath catching with her sobs as she wept, but forced herself to look at him, refusing to break eye contact with him for even a moment encase the moment would shatter.

"No! I'm coming for you! Even if I have to kill a thousand demons, I will!" he insisted, his own eyes beginning to glisten.

"Alistair…" she whispered, shaking her head sorrowfully.

He bit his lip in order to stop himself from breaking down in front of her, he had to be strong… but he felt himself begin to shake as the emotion began to take him over.

"I'll come for you," he whispered, his lips trembling as his eyes glistened with tears. "I swear, on everything I have ever loved… I'll find you, and I'll bring you both home!"

"I know," she whispered, more tears streaking down her face as she smiled that beautiful smile. "I love you Alistair, I will love you until the day I die,"

"I'll love you longer than that," he insisted with a fiery passion. "To Hell, the Maker and back, till there's nothing left, I'll love you…"

"**_Always,_**" the whispered together: as if it were some promise, some holy prayer that escaped their lips reverently.

Alistair was sent hurtling back to his body, making him stagger as his mind struggled to comprehend the two realities he had just lived. His face was streaked with tears, his eyes were burning, and his heart was aching. He looked up to the tower in panic, and saw Elissa looking down straight into his eyes, her tears falling silently.

"ELISSA!" he screamed.

With another crashing "BOOM!" a giant light appeared atop the tower, almost blinding Alistair as he was forced to looked away for a fraction of a second before shading his eyes. But not before he saw Elissa suspended above the ground, her body stretched taught like a bow string, her mouth open in a silent scream. And then, giant claws appeared from the light, razor edges descending around her.

In a flash, it was all over.

And Elissa… was gone.


	11. Finale

Finale

Alistair sat in his throne, his face leaning into his fist, he was bathed in shadows, masking him from view, though his eyes shone threateningly in darkness: hard like stone and unforgiving as he looked upon the men before him.

"What news?" he asked curtly, his voice hard, rough, it was void of all emotion, making the men a little rattled.

"The attack last night cost us," a man who looked to be in his mid-forties, well built, strong jaw, with a scar on his cheek spoke. He was Sir Brimley, the Commander of the Royal Guard. "Twenty three men were killed and seventeen more are still being treated for their injuries. In addition we have several castle staff missing as well as two inner walls that collapsed in the attack,"

Alistair looked away, seeming completely disinterested, and looked to the next man.

"Several homes and establishments are completely destroyed, My liege," said Mark Ren, the City's keeper. "Some fire's in the lower sectors of the City are still burning, though most have been put out. We now have fifty three people with no homes,"

Again, Alistair turned away dismissively.

"My King, Alistair," said Bann Teagan, rising a little from his knees. "My investigation suggests that what happened last night could not have worked without the help of a mage, a powerful one, or even a few. I do believe that the demons were there as a distraction,"

"For what?" Alistair growled in a voice that was completely unlike his own.

"The demons seemed to focus their attacks on anywhere that was within your vicinity," Teagan said. "It appears to have been another assassination attempt,"

"It was not," Alistair snapped, rising to his feet, his shadow casting darkness about the room that poured from the depths of his broken heart. "What happened last night was a statement, an attack to wage war on Ferelden. That was too much for a simple Assassination." He spat, descending the stairs, menace in his every move, anger and hatred in his every bone, though it was directed at no one in the throne room, though they all felt it and were almost devoured by its ferocity. "And they took something from me, and when I find out who it is, I'll burn them, their families, their neighbours, their whole nation to the ground. I'm not stopping until I get her back,"

"Pardon, Alistair –" Teagan rose and took a step towards his nephew, but was stopped by the coldness in Alistair's eyes that seared him. "I've investigated into the Queen's disappearance," he said softly, trying to comfort the broken husk of a man before him. "The Mages confirm that she was pulled into the Fade, she could be anywhere in all of Thedas by now,"

"I don't care," Alistair growled. "Find her,"

* * *

Cassandra Pentaghast exited the Hawk Estate Mansion, sighing and rubbing her eyes in exhaustion. She looked sadly at the book in her hands; where was she to go from here? Her one good lead, gone. She now had to start from scratch.

She looked to her men, all assembled and awaiting orders as they lined the stretches of the courtyard. The symbol of their order, the eye of the Seekers of Truth stood stark white against their dark armour. They had so much to do, to stop this nightmare: wars between the Templars and Mages, the veil being torn, demons rampaging across Thedas. It was up to them to stop it, but how?

"So…" came a silky voice, with a trill of an Orlesian accent. Cassandra looked over to see Leliana walking towards her, draped in the same armour as the Seekers, her short red hair framing her face as a few stray strands fell in front of her eyes. The Warden's (Elissa Theirin's) former companion looked at Cassandra, her eyes filled with hope but uncertainty. She already knew what Cassandra would say, but still wanted to hear anything but the truth. "Did you…" she let the sentence trail off.

"Gone," Cassandra snapped in frustration. Then sighed, it wasn't Leliana's fault, and the woman was doing everything she could to help. She looked at the book in her hands tiredly, her spirit growing heavy with the defeat. "The Champion and all leads leading to her – gone. Just like the Warden," she sighed.

As Leliana came to stand beside her, Cassandra signalled her men, who saluted before quickly marching back out towards Kirkwall Hightown. Leliana breathed as she thought for a moment.

"For both Hawk and Elissa to vanish like this…" she spoke softly, more thinking out loud then to anyone in particular; but Cassandra waited patiently. Leliana looked at her, her eyes becoming hard. "That is no coincidence,"

As the last of her men filed out, Cassandra turned towards the other woman, her eyes narrowing with interest.

"So, do we proceed with the original plan? Or keep looking?" she asked, offering the large book to Leliana, who took it with gentle fingers.

Once again, Leliana lost herself in thought, holding the book delicately as she looked up to the moon as if for inspiration. _My dear friend,_ she thought to herself sadly, _where have you gone?_

If Elissa had been there, then they might have stood a chance, her former leader always knew the right path to choose. But now she was gone and they needed to find her, her and Marion Hawke – the Champion of Kirkwall – if they were to stand any hope of winning this coming fight. She turned to Cassandra, steeling herself as she did so.

"It is in the Maker's hands now," she murmured solemnly. "We put our faith in him,"

Cassandra nodded, and then followed her men out of the Courtyard.

Leliana lingered for just a moment, running her fingers gently along the cover of the book, her touch gingerly carving around the eye in the centre of the cover. She sighed, a resolution coming over her.

It was time to bring in the Inquisitor.

* * *

**Author's Note: **

**And there you have it, the end of "Always".**

**But I'd just like to say a few words, if you don't like Authors notes then no problem, but I'd just like to explain myself and thank a few people. **

**Firstly: I know some of you are going to hate the fact that I've ended it like this, but I'm going to stick by this. This was my version of what happened when Elissa "disappeared" and theoretical reasons as to why. Obviously I may be proved wrong in the coming events of "Dragon Age: Inquisition" (which I am super excited for!) but this is my personal head cannon at the moment. I may do a short fic in the future about how Alistair could get Elissa back, but again I won't until I know a little more information about DA3. Bioware have said that Hawke and the Warden are big parts of the upcoming adventures but won't say how, so I can't do anymore without more information. But, I'm actually really pleased with how this turned out, it's taken me all summer to do this and I actually feel rather sad that such a big part of my mental life has come to an end (seriously you have no idea how much my mind has been stewing over this for so many weeks – it's been delicious!). **

**Secondly: I'd like to thank ALL my followers and favourites for their support and encouragement.**

**You guys have been here with me since the beginning, and seeing as this is my first real story, you make me so happy with all of your support, encouragement and favs. Also I'd like to thank everyone who left me a review – I really appreciate it all, seriously I've been bouncing around my room every time I got one (you can tell I'm still new to all this) but on a serious note: thank you. I couldn't have done this without the knowledge of your love. **

**Thank you all.**

**Hope to see you all again sometime in the future :)**

**And please Review, PM me and all that jazz, would like to know of your thoughts as to the story as a whole, and maybe what you would like me to do next.**

**With Love,**

**DONOVAN94**

**X**


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